


Under The Stars.

by cutenewt



Series: Under The Stars [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Canon Autistic Character, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship, High School Student Castiel, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutenewt/pseuds/cutenewt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak attend the same high school. One fits into the crowds and stands out, whereas the other's only wish is to blend in. When their paths meet... let's just say it isn't all a fairytale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

The sun shines into the waiting room where Cas sits alone. His trembling fingers run along each and every pin that lines his blood spattered denim over piece. The door beside him swings open, but his body doesn't flinch.

 

 _“Cas!”_ The familiar voice of someone he knows washes over him with a comforting warmth.

 

He looks up at her, avoiding her eyes and look of worry. “Hey, Emmy.” His fingers retreat away from the cool, metal accessories that align his clothing.

 

She sits down on one of the chairs that are supposed to make you feel comfortable. Tucking a strand of blonde behind her ear, the girl sighs deeply.

 

“Are you okay?” Her question confuses Castiel… she does this a lot, you know – ask him if he's okay, whenever he's been hurt.

 

“Yes,” his rehearsed response takes over what his mind really thinks.

 

Slowly withdrawing the scarlet stained tissue away from his nose, he then carefully places it into the nearby waste bin. “I'd like to go home now,” retrieving the cracked glasses from his upper pocket, he places them over his cut ridden nose.

 

Emmy looks over at him as if she's feeling his own pain personally. “I'll walk you,” she's adamant that this is going to happen, because she always does this. Cas doesn't argue anymore, he just lets her walk alongside him in a mutual silence.

 

Cas trusts Emmy. And, Emmy trusts Cas.

 

The hands that were shaking uncontrollably when he got into the nurse’s office are now feeling much calmer, as he shoves them into the pockets of his black jeans. His feet pad along the leaf painted pavement, and Emmy walks alongside him. “I can't see out of these glasses anymore,” he states a little sadly.

 

His friend chuckles. “You have a new pair at home though, I'm assuming?” Knowing that she doesn't really need to phrase this as a question, Emmy looks up at him.

 

“Yeah,” Cas kicks at a nearby stone. “I might go back to the half-framed ones.” He begins to think out loud, and his friend nods in agreement.

 

“I like those,” she replies. But, Castiel isn't listening. The corner where he's supposed to turn right by the playing field is being blocked by a fellow student. A fellow student who's leaning up against a tree, smoking a cigarette and polluting the world around him.

 

Angrily stomping his Converse closer and closer to a potential social situation, Castiel keeps his head down. “What happened to _you?_ ” An obnoxious tone causes Cas to physically flinch, before he stops still in the middle of a paving stone.

 

“None of your business,” his staring contest with his worn out sneakers is way more interesting than eye contact with Dean Winchester. _Honestly._

 

“Leave him alone, he already gets enough shit from your so-called friends,” Emmy’s voice is laced with a loathing tone as soon as she mentions the small group of bullies that are today's culprits.

 

Strangely, Dean’s brow furrows. “Who hurt him?” He directs his question to Emmy, and the cig that hangs in-between his lips waggles as he talks.

 

“The one and only captain of the football team and his trusty sidekick… I'm assuming,” her eyes flit over to where Cas is toying with his favourite bumblebee pin.

 

His shoulders rise up, and then down again. “I'm sorry,” the green eyed smoker tries to catch Castiel’s eye, but he won't get so lucky today.

 

“Sure you are,” Emmy gently takes Cas by the hand. “Let's go.” She whispers reassuringly into his ear, and then carefully tugs him from the spot that he's glued onto.

 

The smell of smoke slowly drifts away as they clear the area, and they finally make it onto the block where Emmy lives, about five minutes later. “Do you want me to walk the rest of the way?” She tilts his chin upwards, forcing their blue eyes to meet.

 

A faux smile appears, as he shakes his head. “I'll be fine – parents are still at work,” he tells her. An actual hint of happiness glimmers inside of him… He’ll probably draw something whilst they're gone.

 

“See you tomorrow?” The blonde engulfs him in a small hug, and he gratefully returns it.

 

He nods his head. “Tomorrow,” Castiel’s mouth curves just slightly. “This spot?” His head cocks to the side, and Emmy laughs.

 

“It's _always_ this spot,” she stands up on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair. “Have a good night!” She calls out, and begins to walk away.

 

As soon as Castiel gets home he eats his dinner, and changes into his pyjamas. After doodling in his journal for a while, he makes sure he's tucked up in bed before his parents are home.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**_The next morning._ **

 

  
Castiel grips tightly onto the cuffs of his sweater paws. The neckline of the bright yellow sweater is aligned with five different pin badges. His previously deep black trousers have faded into a dark grey colour, and they somewhat clash with his black Converse sneakers.

 

One of his fashion favourites is wearing odd socks. Pins on his jackets, and odd socks on his feet. Today he's wearing one yellow sock, and one black one. Like he told Emmy yesterday, he's chosen the half-framed black glasses.

 

They're hurting the scattering of red cuts that litter the bridge and tip of his nose, but he's learnt to act like they don't bother him. There's also a reddened bruise on his upper left cheekbone, which is half hidden by the glass from spectacles.

 

Glancing down at his wristwatch, his brow furrows. Emmy is two minutes late… She's never late. Preparing to begin walking towards her house, a sudden blurred figure appears in the distance. The figure is running so fast, that it takes Castiel’s eyes a good few seconds to adjust to who it is.

 

The out of breath and grinning from ear to ear girl skids to a halt, just in front of his feet. “Emmy?” He pokes his glasses up his nose.

 

“Cas!” She flings her arms around his body, but then immediately lets go as she feels him flinch.

 

Making sure to study his facial expressions and body language closely – she's learned how to read him exactly like a book, over the years – she checks that he's alright. “Sorry,” her smile disappears for less than a second.

 

“It's alri –”

 

“I'm getting a puppy!” Her over excited shrill tone pierces the air, and cuts his own sentence off at the end.

 

Cas’ brain takes a few moments to process her extreme burst of happiness. “That's great… But, we’re now five minutes late.” His finger taps his watch face, and Emmy rolls her eyes.

 

She links arms with him, and then turns them around. They begin walking along the path together. “She's an adorable Labrador, and I pick her up next weekend!” His friend continues to beam about her dog. “I need a name though,” her mouth twitches sideways.

 

“Call her Cas,” he chuckles lightly, and Emmy smiles – it makes her happy when he laughs.

 

As they begin to join other students that are walking to school, Castiel grows a little quieter, and more tense. “What about Honey? Oh my god, that’s perfect!” Her index finger and thumb touch the necklace that Cas bought her for her sixteenth birthday.

 

“I like that name,” his face softens, “reminds me of bees.”

 

The blonde quickly pulls his arm in order to dodge him around a second grader, on a skateboard. “Eyes up, Novak.” She reminds him helpfully, and he does as he's told.

 

They're now five minutes away, and walking past the tree that they met Dean at yesterday. He's not there right now, but just up ahead are three students – dressed in all black. The middle guy, he's the tallest. Grey smoke trails behind him, and then his Dr. Marten boot stamps the cigarette out on the ground.

 

The two guys beside him wave goodbye, as they spot two girls up ahead. Of course, Emmy begins to walk closer and closer to the only obstacle in their way. She doesn't pull Cas with her, but she's already overtaking the student and he doesn't want to be alone. So, he follows her.

 

They both walk past the now stationary stranger, who is shortly identified as Dean. “Why are you in such a hurry? It's school!” He yells after Emmy… Or, maybe he's yelling after Cas. But, Cas doesn't look back.

 

Emmy, however, does look back. And, she flips Dean off in one swift and graceful movement. Castiel starts laughing, and they both enter the school building in fairly high spirits.

 

~*~*~*~

 

For first period, Cas has English Lit. He chose the maximum choice of five subjects for his A levels – English Literature, Math, Physics, Art and History. He's extremely clever, and has been in the top set for every class, since he reached the age where the schooling system separates their kids by intellect. This is mostly to being on the spectrum, or, as most people refer to it as – ‘being a nerd.’

 

He sits next to Charlie Bradbury in this class. She's actually very friendly, despite only having sat next to him at the start of the new school year. She often asks him about each pin that he's wearing, and smiles along as Castiel shyly explains them to her.

 

He likes Charlie. Her hair is always shiny, and sometimes she braids it really small – it’s rather aesthetically pleasing. She never has an unkind word about anybody, and Cas often sees her supporting LGBT+ rights, whether it's a rainbow hair ribbon, or a supportive pin.

 

“So, are you going to Dean's birthday party?” The redhead snaps him out of his daze. He has an unfortunate habit of zoning out into space, and this happens at the worst of times.

 

He frowns, and turns his head slightly. Charlie continues, knowing that she has his attention now. “It's on Saturday!” The girl flashes her pearly whites.

 

“Probably not, I hope he has fun though.” Castiel brushes a finger along one of his bumblebee pins. “Are you going?” He rarely prompts longer conversations, but it's nice to pretend to be sociable sometimes. Especially in this class, as it's such a quiet, and safe atmosphere.

 

“Well, duh!” She flicks a section of hair over her shoulder. “You should come… So should Emmy,” Charlie sighs, and then goes back to writing in her book.

 

Sitting in thought for a while, Cas looks at the side of his lesson partner’s head. “Do you like Emmy?” He asks a little bluntly – but, Charlie is almost fully used to his quirks by now.

 

She chuckles a little, and her cheeks tint a light shade of pastel pink. “Who doesn't? Straight, or not straight.” A playful smile accompanies her shrug, and then she turns back to her half-full page of writing again.

 

Having already written a page and a half, Cas rests his pencil down on the desk. He's having worries about how Emmy will most likely want to attend this party, and how she will most likely persuade him to come along. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad… Dean has never directly upset Cas to his face, unlike the majority of his friends.

 

The almost silent classroom is abruptly interrupted by the class door swinging open. The enthusiastic head of sixth form bursts in, and smiles widely. “Is Castiel Novak in here?” He looks around the room, and notices someone slowly raising their hand.

 

“Could I speak to you, for a moment?” The main pokes his glasses up his nose, and Cas nods.

 

His chair scrapes backwards across the floor, and he carefully makes his way to the front. He's lead outside of the room, and listens as the door thuds shut. “W – what's wrong, Sir?” Cas grips at one of his pins, whilst flickering his eyes up to the teacher’s face.

 

“Don't look so worried!” He chuckles heartily, placing a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

 

Trying his best not to tense up, Castiel fakes his own laugh. “I'd like to ask you of an opportunity, of sorts,” he gets closer to the point. “Would you be willing to tutor one of our retake students, for extra credit towards university?” Finally, he gets to the question he's been wanting to ask.

 

Cas lets go of his pin, and frowns. What retake student? He hasn't been made aware of anyone retaking their grade… Everyone in his grade are the same as last year. “Who?” He quickly realises he's going to start staring into space if he doesn't continue the conversation soon enough.

 

“Dean Winchester – he's retaking grade eleven, but we let him move up with the rest if you. So, please keep this confidential.” Castiel’s ears must have deceived him. Tutoring Dean? No way.

 

He swallows hard, and then clears his throat. “Could I have some time to think about it, please?” Remembering Emmy’s usual ‘eyes up, Novak’ he forces himself to (almost) look his teacher directly in the eye.

 

“You're our most gifted student, Novak…” He begins, rubbing his chin. “Come by my office Monday, with your final decision. You're free to go back to class now,” he tells him, and Cas nods as his ‘thanks.’

 

Ignoring the wave of whispers that slowly die down as he re-enters the classroom, he keeps his head down and makes his way back to his seat. Charlie – being the inquisitive person that she is – narrows her eyes at him. “Are you in trouble?” That's her first guess.

 

“It's nothing, just telling me about some extra work I can do.” He replies, doodling little stars in the margin of his page for a temporary distraction.

 

Charlie scrunches up her nose in distaste. “Extra work,” she mutters, shaking her head at the clever student next to her. “Rather you than me!”

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

~*~*~*~

 

The next day was Thursday, and then it was Friday. Cas’ mind was all mixed up – he wasn't sure whether or not he could stomach tutoring Dean, he'd probably have a nervous breakdown every time he got to his damn house.

 

Emmy could tell that he was caught up in something or other, but everytime she asked him what was wrong, he just blamed it on home life. After a while of asking, and getting the same answer each time, Emmy gave up.

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

**_Saturday morning.  
9.07a.m._ **

  
Emmy had invited Cas to sleepover last night, but he didn't get much sleep. Instead he stayed up to count the stars – it usually calms him down in the night. This morning, she's still snuggled up in her sleeping bag, upon the floor. She always insists on letting him borrow her freshly made bed, no matter how much he argues.

 

He's sat on the edge of the mattress, swinging his legs back and forth. Emmy is mumbling sleepily about what she wants to wear, and what she has found for Cas – she has an elder brother who's left home, but he still has a ton of old stuff in the garage.

 

“So, you're cool to ditch your glasses and wear leather?” She snaps her fingers to catch his attention, and he looks at her.

 

A frown forms over his facial features. “What's wrong with my glasses?” He asks, bringing his hands up to his face where one of his older pairs are currently placed. They're a wide, black pair, that are square framed.

 

“Nothing!” Emmy quickly chuckles, causing him to leave them on.

 

He scratches his bed head. “I don't really think I should go,” Castiel mumbles quietly, not wanting to disappoint her. She's been almost as excited as this, as she has about the puppy that she's collecting next week.

 

“You'll be fine,” the girl sits up – still in her own cosy cocoon. “I'll be right there, but your side… You’ll impress everyone! I'll gel your hair, and everything.” The blonde grins proudly, but Cas still isn't feeling it.

 

“Parties are crowded.”

 

“We’ll find a less crowded room.”

 

“I don't drink.”

 

“That's fine! I won't even get super drunk.”

 

Castiel sighs, feeling defeated already. “Fine,” he finalises, hoping that he won't regret it later this evening.

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

**_Saturday night.  
9.03p.m._ **

  
Everything felt unnatural to him – black skinny jeans, black leather jacket, and a pair of black combat boots that are a size too small. “Emmy?” The air in his throat seems to be getting lesser and lesser, as he stares at himself in the reflection of her wardrobe mirror.

 

“Can I come and gel your hair yet?!” She calls impatiently from outside the door, awaiting her invitation to be let back into her bedroom.

 

Cas grips the cool metal pin in his right hand, not wanting to pin it to his jacket and ruin the material. He wonders if Emmy will mind using the blank white tee underneath to use for his pin cushion, but is interrupted mid-thought when he hears a gasp.

 

He turns to see her standing in the doorway – jaw almost to the floor. “You look great!” She claps her hands in delight, and waltzes properly into the room.

 

Emmy’s outfit looks amazing. She chose a black leather mini skirt, accompanied by a black and white stripy crop-top. Her shoes are black also, and have wedges underneath them. Her makeup is smoky, yet elegant, and she's also aligned her arms with a selection of bangles, as well as wearing a ribbon choker too. Finally, her hair is in a half-up, half-down do, with curls everywhere.

 

“You look beautiful,” Castiel lets his eyes comfortably meet hers, and they smile along with her mouth.

 

“ _You_ need to take your glasses off!” She scolds, coming closer to him. Still smiling the brightest smile in the room, she reaches up towards the frames.

 

He flinches at her touch, but let's her remove them from his face. “Now, I can't see,” he pouts.

 

“It's only for one evening, you'll be fine!” The girl wanders over to her dressing table, and files through some drawers.

 

When she's eventually come across what she needs, her freshly manicured hand pats the chair in front of her. Castiel complies, and takes a seat. “I can't see, Emmy.” He continues to whine, as she unscrews the lid to a pot of hair gel.

 

“Stay still,” she instructs.

 

Scooping a bit of the gel out onto the tips of her fingers, she begins to ruffle up Cas’ hair. “What are you doing?” He fidgets in his seat, squinting to try and see what it looks like in the mirror before him.

 

“Making you look better than me,” she chuckles, and Cas feels his cheeks heat up a little.

 

“That would _never_ happen,” he admits shyly, but is distracted as she pulls his hair a little.

 

Emmy notices his slightly discomfort, and then wipes her hand on a nearby makeup wipe. “Tada!” She's all finished – and now, Castiel’s hair is in a messy, but nice hairstyle.

 

“Thanks,” he forces himself to say, and stands up from the chair.

 

As Emmy leads the way out of the door, Cas fumbles with the planet pin that has already made a small indent on his palm. He attaches it to the bottom hem of his shirt, and then follows his best friend out into the cool night air. “We can walk, it's literally only ten minutes away.” She tells him, and he nods silently.

 

You wouldn't even need a map to get to the damn place – the music and chatter can be heard not even five minutes away. There's a small gaggle of students crowding the sidewalk by Dean's house, and his front yard is also full of (already drunk) seniors. Emmy looks back to make sure that Cas is okay, noticing that he's holding onto the bottom of his shirt.

 

The blonde smiles at him, reaching out for his hand. “You good?” She asks sincerely, and Cas hurriedly nods. Emmy pushes past a couple making out on the front porch, and then pulls Cas inside of the house. Everything is loud beyond words, and all he wants to do is shove his fingers inside his ears.

 

There's no sign of Dean anywhere – in fact, Cas barely recognises anyone here. Emmy leads them over to a table that has some punch on it, and she lets go of his hand in order to fill herself a red paper cup. “Want some?” She has to bend down to Cas’ face level, and yell over the music to catch his attention right.

 

Shaking his head, he looks around the room. One of the people notorious for beating him up is standing right by the doorway to the kitchen, chatting to some fake blonde. “Emmy,” his voice is dramatically quiet – she probably wouldn't have even heard him without the music.

 

_This was a bad idea._

 

Tapping her on the shoulder as she downs the drink in one, her blue eyes flicker towards his own pair. “Hmm?” She asks innocently, filling herself another cupful.

 

Cas uses his head to subtly gesture over to the person he's quite afraid of. “It's alright, they'll barely recognise you! You look great!” Her smile reassures him a little, but the next time he turns, the guy is gone.

 

They spend a few more seconds lingering by the table of drinks, but then Emmy sees someone that she apparently knows. She makes sure to link arms with Cas, and then skips over to talk to the girl. How she walks in those damn shoes – let alone runs – is truly unknown to Castiel. _Like, honestly._

 

Whilst mid-conversation with her friend, Cas feels himself growing more and more uncomfortable. He knows that he needs to get out of here, out of this situation, as soon as possible. But, he doesn't want to bail just yet.

 

“I'm just going to find the bathroom,” he calls to Emmy, who nods – only half-understanding what he's said.

 

He removes his arm from the comforting touch of her denim jacket sleeve, and starts to weave through the crowd. “I have no idea where the bathroom is,” he mutters to himself, an overwhelming feeling of being small overtaking him.

 

Keeping his eyes glued to the floor wasn't a very good idea either, as not a second later he's bumped right into an unaware bystander. “Sorry!” He looks up, and sort of recognises the face to be a jock, that plays on the same team as Dean.

 

“You better be – nerd?!” Like they still don't know his name.

 

Cas’ eyes widen, recognising the voice better than the face. He immediately spins around on his heels before he risks feeling an all too familiar fist connect to his face, and starts to run through the sea of people.

 

The house is like a maze and his mind is in a muddle, as he's now somewhere in another collection of students again. The front door is nowhere in sight, and he's barely noticed his own quickening breathing – the music and sound of people laughing together has all blended into one, deafening buzz.

 

Suddenly, the touch of an unknown pair of hands makes his whole body jump harshly, and his eyes dart above him. He doesn't look at the mysterious face long enough to identify, and he certainly can't understand what the mouth is saying to him. At first, he stares at the slow moving lips, but it makes him dizzy and nauseous.

 

Trying to tell himself to calm down inside of his mind, he diverts his blue eyes back up to the mouth again. It seems like they're asking him if he's okay, but he's not one hundred percent sure. “I need to go home,” he chokes out through tears that he hasn't even registered were falling, and then he yanks his hands away from whoever is holding them in the first place, wiping at his eyes.

 

“Castiel? That's your name, right?!” A loud, gruff voice shouts over the music.

 

Cas can feel himself being dragged somewhere, but he can't feel his feet moving. They must be moving though, because now he's walking up some stairs. The guy – he has realised at it's a guy now – doesn't stop pulling him by the arm, until they reach a closed door.

 

Castiel's hands tremble, and he tries to find the pin on his t-shirt. He holds onto it for dear life, gasping for air but unable to take any in. It's a little bit quieter up here, so he can now hear how terrible his breathing actually sounds, and as the adrenaline from all of the bustle downstairs starts to fade away, he can feel the tight pain in his chest a lot more clearly.

 

“Come in here, it's alright.” His scrambled brain is starting to piece things together now, and he knows this voice from somewhere… He's just not quite sure where, just yet.

 

When his feet don't comply with the offer he's just been given, he feels someone take his hand again. Usually one to avoid the touch of a stranger at all costs, Cas just lets the actions go ahead – like he has a choice, anyway.

 

The dull thud of the door closing behind him makes him flinch in fear, and then he feels himself being guided to a nearby bed. Being gently pushed down onto the soft material beneath him, he hears another instruction being given. “Put your head in between your knees… I think, _oh shit.._ Please don't pass out on me!” The guy sounds close to terrified, but somehow Castiel manages to do as he's told.

 

He concentrates all of his damn being on starting to control his breathing – in, and out. Slowly, through his nose. It takes a good five minutes, but the hand that's rubbing gentle circles on his back definitely helps. Now able to breathe and think for himself slightly, Cas looks up again.

 

The breaths that leave his mouth are still fast paced and shaky, but they aren't dramatic gasps for breath anymore. But, they might start again when he sees who's in front of him.

 

“D – Dean?” He coughs, and holds his shaking body.

 

“Jesus Christ, you're alright.” The boy leans up against a nearby wall, and takes the deepest sigh of relief.

 

Cas frowns. He whispers his breathing controlling exercises to himself for a few more minutes, still trying to calm himself down. “That's it, just breathe.” Dean encourages him, taking a seat on the bed too. His bed, to be precise.

 

“Do you need anything? Like, I don't really have any paper bags… But,” the Winchester trails off awkwardly, still staring at the trembling leaf before him.

 

He looks at Cas with the ultimate concern glistening inside of his forest eyes. Castiel manages to find the courage to look into the shade of green, having never really found out the exact colour before now. As Dean opens his mouth to say something, he looks down faster than ever.

 

“Do you want a glass of water?” Dean asks yet another question, his speech less drowned out by Cas’ breathing had it had been previously.

 

Castiel twiddles the metal pin in his fingers, trying to slow down the shakes. “N – no, thank you.” He stammers quietly, causing Dean to shuffle closer in order to hear exactly what is being said.

 

“You scared me then, I thought you were gonna throw up everywhere… My dad would've killed me,” he forces a laugh, but Castiel doesn't understand the humour in his sentence.

 

“I'm sorry,” he takes a large breath inwards, and then let's it out slowly.

 

“Oh, no! It's okay, I was only kidding.” He reassures Cas, moving his hand towards his shoulder, but now he's coherent enough to move away.

 

Castiel sniffs, and uses his jacket sleeve to rub his reddened face. All he wants to do is sleep, feeling exhausted from all of the anxiety that had just left him. He's still confused as to how he got into Dean Winchester’s bedroom, and he doesn't want to look at him either. He can't just run home now – I mean, for all he knows he's about to get beat up if he so much as goes downstairs… So, he stays frozen in the spot where he's sitting.

 

“Happy Birthday, by the way.” A tiny mumble escapes him, and Dean full on laughs at this statement.

 

Novak is confused once again, unsure of why this was funny… Did he say something wrong? “Thanks,” Dean chuckles heartily, but then sighs. “You know, I'd have been happier just having a damn pizza with Sammy, and watching a movie – uh, that's my brother.” He admits, and stands up.

 

The weight that's lifted from the bed mirrors with how Cas feels now. His anxiety is slowly drifting away, and he brings his gaze up from the dull carpeted floor, for a few seconds. He watches Dean jimmy open a drawer, and take out a worn out looking packet of cigarettes.

 

Walking to his window, he opens it, and carefully leans against the wall beside it. The cool night air washes over Cas from just a few meters away, and he shivers slightly. He hears Dean light the cigarette, but stays silent whilst he smokes.

 

“Those things aren't good for you, you know.” He breaks the silence, and hears Dean scoff.

 

“Don't worry, I know,” he says, a hint of sadness is carried upon his tone. “Sam tells me enough damn times,” he mutters more angry now… But, Cas doesn't know why he'd be angry at him, he only told him the truth.

 

Castiel stands up, but grips the bed post for support. “I'm sorry,” he says again. His legs still feet a little uneasy, and his vision still makes him feel a little sick to the stomach – he should've just worn his glasses.

 

“Hey, where’re you going?” Dean puts the cigarette out on his singed – once upon a time snowy white – windowsill.

 

His strides are a lot bigger than Cas’ mouse sized steps, so he reaches the door before Castiel has even considered pulling it open. “I want to go home,” the timid sounds in his voice causes Dean to back off a little.

 

“I know, but you should probably calm down a bit more first.” Apparently he thinks he's brilliant at advice, which annoys Castiel – because, he totally ignored his cigarette comment, a few moments ago.

 

A silence looms around them, until Dean has an idea that could solve their problems. “You could stay in here, until the party dies down?” He suggests kindly, and Cas is utterly bemused at his warmth.

 

“I _need_ to get home,” he dismisses the request, his brain taking his speech over before he can really answer properly.

 

“Let me walk you, then!” Dean's hand fly up in frustration, and Cas cowers backwards.

 

The firm frown on Dean's face fades away a little, as he looks at the still shaking student in front of him. He's never really noticed Castiel act this way at school before, whenever he sees him walking from the library, or chatting with Emmy. He actually acts fairly sociable, whenever he's with his best friend… “Emmy! Do you want me to go and find her?” Dean exclaims his eureka moment aloud, and Castiel’s ocean eyes get wider.

 

“No! She'll – I don't want her to, I can't ruin her night. Please, just get me out of here, and if you see her pretend I went home sick. _Please,_ ” his blue eyes almost form yet another ocean of their own, and Dean quickly nods in agreement.

 

“Alright, sure! Just stay close to me, and I'll get you safely out the front door.”

 

As soon as the bedroom door opens, all of the familiar feelings of fear come flooding back towards Castiel. He grips onto Dean's arm tighter than he should be doing so, but the Winchester barely seems to be phased by it. When a few drunken guys shout Dean's name, he simply ignores them, and continues to make a beeline towards the door.

 

As soon as the feeling of fresh air hits Cas in the face, he breathes it in as if he's just come up for air, after being underwater for a too long a period of time. “Thank you,” he lets go of Dean, remembering that this isn't Emmy he's holding.

 

His surroundings are still spinning slightly, and his body staggers to the left. A strong hand catches him just in time, and then starts to take him down the pathway. “What're you doing?” Cas grips his queasy stomach, watching his feet stomp with every step down below him.

 

“I'm getting you out of the situation that's making you so damn anxious! That's what I'm doing,” Dean raises his voice, but not loud enough so that any passers by can hear them.

 

Castiel is too shocked at all of his actions to even muster up a reply in his head, so he lets himself be lead out of the block. He feels a mixture of relief and gratitude, when the only sound that they can hear is a stray cat scuttling across the road. He slides his arm out of Dean's, and then looks at his familiar surroundings – the trees, the dodgy streetlamp, and the car that's always parked on the right.

 

The field that Emmy's house sits almost opposite, and the tree that he’ll stand under if it’s raining when he's waiting for her, before school. That means that his house is now just (approximately) four minutes, and fifteen seconds away. “I'm okay,” he reassured himself, but hears Dean sighing in relief as if he's responding to this self-assuring statement.

 

“Can I walk you home? You live down there, right? Sometimes I see you saying bye to Emmy,” Dean informs, hoping that he doesn't cause the guy to feel even more uncomfortable than he already was.

 

Cas shifts from foot to foot, feeling the sting of his rubbing feet against the material inside his borrowed shoes. He stands in thought, knowing that Dean is practically a stranger to him, but the smell of smoke and fading cologne seems to feel a lot safer to him now, than the stench of alcohol that filled the air back at the party.

 

“Walk me home?” He phrases his answer as a question, sending Dean into a state of confusion this time.

 

“Yeah,” he says, a half-laugh leaving his lips. “That's what I said, right?” He scratches at the back of his neck, wondering if his somewhat drunken mind had uttered another question to Castiel instead.

 

His eyes search for a sign of an answer, when no speech comes out. Finally, Cas nods. The sound of thudding footsteps filling the quiet nighttime air is prominent once again, as the pair make their way across the street and down into Castiel’s housing block.

 

He knows this route almost better than the back of his hand, so his feet stop functioning when he gets to his house, before he even realises it with his eyes. Dean manages to stop himself from tripping over Cas’ combats just in time, and looks up at the quaintly floral front yard that must be what the guy calls ‘home.’

 

“So, this is you, huh?” His throat clears, and Castiel tilts his head to the side a little.

 

“My home… yes.” He confirms, and Dean chuckles quietly.

 

“I'll see you at school then… I guess,” Dean says, still watching Castiel, and awaiting for his blue eyes to look up again. But, they don't.

 

He watches as the student he barely even knows, walks up towards his front porch. Dean is about to start walking away himself, when he hears “thank you.”

 

“It's nothing – what kind of asshole would just leave you standing there, after noticing that you weren't… Okay,” he phrases his speech as kindly as he can, and it seems that Cas is content with his choice of words.

 

Castiel sees Dean waving out of the corner of his eye, as he's turning towards his front door. “See you at school,” he mutters under his breath, the tiniest of smiles forming upon his face.

 

~*~*~*~

 

 


	3. Chapter 3.

 

~*~*~

 

**_Sunday morning.  
_ **

**_7.56a.m._ **

 

  
Cas usually wakes up between seven, and nine am. Usually, it's a little later on weekends. Today, his face is a little stiff with tear stains, so he showers first thing.

 

When he got into the house last night, he luckily managed to creep upstairs – without disturbing his parents. He was supposed to stay over at Emmy’s, but obviously couldn't get back there without her, and her house key.

 

He stayed up and watched the stars for a long time, when he got back. He thought about how Dean had been so kind to him, and wondered why he wasn't like that at school. He worried about anyone else seeing him go upstairs with Dean, and worried about where Emmy thought that he had gone.

 

In fact, he awoke to three missed calls from her. Afterwards, she sent him a (rather misspelt, and hard to read) message saying that Dean had told her that he was safe. That's good.

 

He still has a headache from not wearing his glasses last night, so he eats breakfast, and then stays in his room. He wonders if Emmy might come over, but imagines that she will be feeling quite rough today. He's right, because she messages him five hours later, asking if he's alright. He says that he is, so she messages him that she's so sorry, and that she’ll see him tomorrow.

 

So, that's that.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**_Monday morning._ **

**_8.30a.m._ **

 

  
Castiel stands underneath his usual shelter – the tree. Raindrops slip down from the leaves above him, and patter violently against the ground. He can see a figure running towards him, underneath a black umbrella. It’s Emmy.

 

“Cas!” She yells over the brewing storm, and he sends her a small wave.

 

Trust the heavens to open just as he arrived at their meeting spot… And, he didn't bring an umbrella. “Cas, I need to talk to you.” She tells him, her voice full of concern and sympathy.

 

“Can we get inside school first, please?” He asks, a shiver travelling down his spine.

 

She nods in agreement, and lifts her umbrella up as a gesture for him to come under. They hurry to school in silence, and push the doors open to the building a little faster than usual. They find the library first, and enter the warm and cosy place with welcoming arms.

 

Cas sits down at the table he normally studies at, and ruffles his damp hair. “What did you want to talk to me about?” He asks, cleaning the droplets of rain off of his glasses, with the navy material from his sweater.

 

“I didn't want to say it over text message, I wanted to apologise in person,” she begins, looking upset before she's even halfway through her sentence. Cas doesn't like it when she's upset, and he can tell because of her facial expression that she is. “I'm sorry I didn't look for you – Dean barely explained it, so I'm not sure what happened… He said you were sick, or something?” She frowns in confusion, and Castiel bites down on his bottom lip.

 

He doesn't want to tell Emmy exactly what happened, but he can't lie to her either. She knows all of his tells, and he can barely hide anything from the girl – I mean, she's known him since he could barely even walk unaided.

 

“Nothing,” he finally settles on saying.

 

Emmy rolls her eyes, slightly melodramatically. “Okay – one, you just stopped all eye contact, two, you hesitated… What happened?” He knows that she only means well, but sometimes he just wants to keep some things to himself.

 

“Emmy, I don't want to tell you.” He answers bluntly. She's used to it, but it still upsets her a little.

 

Her mind already somewhat knows what happened, and she knows that he doesn't want to tell him. So, she leaves it for now. “Alright, let's just go to my locker.” Em sighs.

 

They walk the corridors, and the only sound that follow them is the squeak of their shoes on the rain sodden floors. As they stop at her locker, a knot ties itself inside Castiel’s stomach. Dean is walking straight for them, and he's surrounded by four of his jock friends.

 

“Hey, wait a second…” The one whom Cas had accidentally bumped into, speaks first.

 

Evidently, he was too late in trying to hide his face behind Emmy – although, he never really leaves her side anyway, so it's always obvious who's standing beside her whenever she's with somebody in school. “What?” Dean’s face looks a mixture of confused and annoyed, until he spots Cas too.

 

“Didn't you take him upstairs, at your party? Bit gay, ain't it?” The guy snorts obnoxiously, and Dean looks disgusted… But this time, Castiel can't tell if he's being genuine, or not.

 

 _“No!”_ He snaps loudly, and the group stop a few lockers down from Emmy’s.

 

She closes her locker, having retrieved what she needed. The blonde shoves the stuff into her bag, and is about to pull Cas away from the jerks, until… “I remember now! You did! Hey, wait up, faggot!” Unfortunately, he's even taller, and even louder than Dean is.

 

He jogs to catch up to Emmy and Cas, grabbing him by the arm. Castiel’s books are sent scattering to the ground, soaking up the excess rainwater from people’s shoes and umbrellas. “Leave him alone!” Emmy yells defensively, automatically reaching down to pick his things up.

 

“This has nothing to do with you, bitch.” The words roll from his tongue with ease, but Dean steps forwards.

 

He stands in front of the jock, separating him from the two friends behind. “Let it go, Cas was feeling sick, so I showed him where the quieter bathroom was.” Dean explains, and Castiel’s stomach does an extra flip… He called him ‘Cas.’

 

 _“Cas?!”_ Another jock starts laughing, and it catches the attention of a few curious bystanders. Pretty soon, they're drawing quite a crowd.

 

“I've heard his friends say it before,” Dean shrugs, continuing to play off the fact that this is nothing.

 

The three jocks that were previously acting friendly towards him, all start to jeer some rather homophobic remarks at the two guys before them. “You think that's cool, huh?” The Winchester scoffs, handing Cas his last book, that landed out of Emmy’s reach.

 

As he kneels down to pick up a stray page, he feels a sharp kick in his side. The unexpected blow sends him to the floor, but he stands back up within seconds. “I'm warning you. Walk away.” Dean’s voice grows scarily low, and he talks through gritted teeth.

 

Castiel’s eyes are glued to the duller version of his eye colour below him, whilst Emmy is stuck frozen, to the spot. She watches Dean move closer to the jock, but he's pushed aside. Before she can do anything to protect him, Cas receives a painful stab to the jaw. He stumbles backwards, falling into Emmy and causing everything that they had both been carrying to fly into the air.

 

“You're so weak, it's actually funny!” The guy laughs, as Emmy pushes him back up.

 

She strides in front of him, glaring menacingly at the bully towering above her. “What's your problem?!” She yells, full of rage and sadness. She doesn't understand it, why they have to be so violent and mean, just because Cas is… different.

 

“He is… Subjecting Dean to all that weird behaviour? He'll ruin our team, if he gets kicked off!” The guy yells back, but louder.

 

Emmy doesn't step down, and tries not to react to Cas whispering her name from behind her. “Now, move. I've never hit a girl before, but –” he's unable to finish his sentence, as Dean punches him in the ear.

 

The heels of the bully’s sneakers spin around, but he's met with Dean's fist yet again. Being outnumbered, Dean throws punches at each of the three ‘friends’ around him, barely being affected as they start to fight back. One of them manages to sneak past Dean and the main offender, and they get Cas right in the nose.

 

“Emmy!” Cas cries out, seeing her on the ground.

 

She's back on her feet again when she sees that Castiel is being targeted – Zach, one of Dean's other teammates, had pushed her to get to Cas – and, she walks right back over. “Piss off, already!” She grabs at Zach’s leather jacket, trying her best to pull him away from holding Cas by the collar.

 

“Five O!” The leader of the fighting – G, as he's known by his pathetic excuses for friends – alerts the gang.

 

Zach drops Cas to the floor, whilst G and his other companion back away from Dean. Still with his fists held up in front of his face, Dean ignores the pain in his right arm, from where he was being detained by one of them, whilst G sent the hits to his face.

 

The trio scatter in different directions, through the hallway and out of sight. “We gotta get out of here,” Dean instructs quietly, grabbing as much as he can from the floor, before taking Emmy by the hand, and gesturing for her to do the same with Cas.

 

He manages to lead them outside just in time, before the nearing teachers had caught wind of the situation. “Follow me, okay.” Dean tells them again, and Emmy simply nods – too shaken up to answer.

 

Leading them through the quiet school grounds, they hear the school bell ring, just as they reach the bleachers. The whole school field is empty, because no lessons start until ten am outside. Dean kicks at the poorly placed wood, that blocks students from going behind the bleachers to make out. It falls through within seconds, and he carefully makes a gap big enough for them to climb through.

 

Once they're inside the small space, a hole in the chain link fence is revealed. Already knowing exactly what he's doing, Dean covers his hand with his jacket, and yanks at the fence… Revealing another person sized gap.

 

Castiel is still in shock, but he finally speaks once he realises exactly what is going on. “What're we doing?” He asks, and Emmy turns to her bloody faced friend.

 

The red from his nose has spilled down onto his sweater, and there's already a lightened bruise upon his jaw. Emmy’s hand is also stained with the liquid, from holding his hand just moments before. Dean looks almost even worse, with blood dripping from both his mouth and nose. The cut on his lip stings as the raindrops fall through the benches above, and land on the fresh wound.

 

Everyone is getting soaked through, and the rain lightens the deep red that flows down the male’s two faces. “Getting out of here,” Dean tells him bluntly, and then proceeds to climb through the space.

 

Castiel Novak has never skipped school, in his whole life. Not once. Barely even for a medical emergency. He's deep in a pool of concerned thoughts, when he feels Emmy pulling him towards the fence. He feels his cold, numbing fingers grabbing at a pin, just before she helps him through the scratchy chain link.

 

They make their way along the field beside the school, not talking until they're all the way away from the place. It stops raining just as they reach Cas’ favourite tree, but he's shivering too much to even notice. Dean winces as he uses his denim sleeve to run along the bottom of his nose, not caring that it's now stained Crimson.

 

Nobody says anything. Emmy holds tightly onto Castiel’s hand, feeling him shaking – but unable to bring herself to figure out if it's his anxiety, or the cold. They traipse through puddle after puddle, ignoring the water that seeps through their non-waterproof footwear.

 

Dean walks ahead of them the whole time, and Emmy isn't surprised when he pulls out a soggy packet of cigs, about five minutes away from his house. His fingers shake ever so slightly as he places the stick in between his reddened lips, and lights it up.

 

He breathes it in, feeling his body become less tense, and a lot more relaxed. Making sure to breathe the smoke as far away from the two friends behind him, he smokes it as quickly as humanly possible. Dean uses the sole of his jet black Converse boots to stamp it out, and then they come to the beginning of his block.

 

After what seems like an eternity, they finally reach his front door – a moment of deja vu, from only two days ago. His fingers are numb from the cold by now, so he fumbles for a while with the door key. Once it opens, he steps aside, letting the other two walk in before him.

 

“Only my brother’s home… You guys had chickenpox as kids, right?” Dean is the first to break the looming silence, shutting the door behind the three of them?

 

They both nod, and he stamps his boots upon the door mat. “Good,” he says, “my kid brother didn't, because he's a dork… And, that's why he's home from school today.” Castiel doesn't understand the correlation with what Dean just told them both, and Emmy’s facial expression doesn't give anything away. So, he decides to keep quiet.

 

“Alright, I don't want any of us getting sick, so we should get cleaned up first, and then I'll let you use my shower… I must have some spare clothes somewhere, sorry Emmy.. They'll probably be too big for the both of you, actually.” Dean scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly, trailing away from his rambling.

 

Castiel sees that Emmy looks at him with an obvious twist of dislike. They follow Dean into the kitchen, and he keeps quiet – in case his brother is asleep somewhere. “Sit down,” he gestures towards the kitchen table, that's still stained from various liquids from the party.

 

Emmy lets Cas sit first, and then she chooses the chair beside. Dean searches through the kitchen drawers, getting out some plasters, and antiseptic liquid. He takes some kitchen towel, and puts a little of the bottle contents on one end. “I'll let you help him,” he hands the material to Emmy, who still looks angered by the whole situation, now that she's gotten over the shock of it all.

 

“This is going to hurt,” she tells Cas upfront, but Dean ignores how she doesn't sugar coat it. He knows that Emmy dislikes him, and is frankly rather surprised that Cas keeps glancing at her, looking confused by this.

 

She carefully takes off his glasses first, and a few shards of shattered glass fall past his cheekbones, as she pries the frames away from his battered face. She then places them on the table beside them both.

 

Castiel winces, as Emmy dabs at the sore mark on his jaw. Dean hands her another few squares of kitchen roll, having run a few under the tap, and left a few dry. She cleans the blood from his nose, but then Cas stops her with his hand. “I can do it,” he says, not looking up from his soaked through shoes.

 

She complies straight away, handing him everything that she was using. Her eyes land upon Dean, who's leaning against the kitchen side, and using a little more aggression, as he cleans himself up. The bruises are already coming up on his face, the tiny constellations of different blues and reds.

 

He wipes off all of the excess blood, and pulls off his jacket. There's a red imprint on his right arm – almost like a burn – from where he was being held back, earlier. “I'm sorry,” he turns back to Emmy and Cas, breathing out heavily.

 

Castiel is holding the kitchen towel up to his nose, that's just started to bleed again. “You didn't do anyth –”

 

“You should be.” Emmy snaps harshly, cutting Cas’ sentence of confusion abruptly short.

 

Dean knows full well that he's still somewhat in the wrong here. He should've stopped hanging around with those people a long, long time ago. But, the fact that they have most classes together, are all jocks, and… For other reasons, he just didn't. He couldn't.

 

“Emmy, I can speak for myself. Dean helped us,” Castiel locks eye contact with her, not even backing down this time.

 

“He never stops it! Wow, he tried this one time… Big deal. He's known you since first grade, and I can't believe that he chose them instead of somebody else, chose football over grades… Skipping school and smoking, instead of just bothering to work hard and not putting up with downright bullies!” Dean, nor Cas, have ever heard something so spiteful leave her usually so caring mouth.

 

Dean is so taken aback by her vicious speech, that he just stands there, and stares at her. “I'm sorry,” is all that he can say. The both of them can feel their eyes stinging, but Emmy is so damn angry, that she can't let herself look weak. Not now.

 

Clearing his throat, Dean remembers what he had said earlier. “Does Cas – tiel, uh, want to take a hot shower first?” He asks, avoiding looking at the pair sat down at the table. “I'll go and sort some clothes out, for us all.”

 

And, with that his footsteps fade into the distance. The sound of the stairs creaking above them is the only thing to be heard, but then Castiel sniffles. Emmy turns to see that tears are trickling down his face. He's never heard Emmy shout like that before. He didn't like it.

 

“Why did you say that to him?” He bites his bottom lip, stopping it from trembling in front of her.

 

He uses his sleeve to wipe away some tears, despite the fact that the concoction of rain water and blood just make it all look worse. “I – I’m angry, Cas. I'm sorry, it was harsh… It was true, though.” She admits, but she sounds as if she's beginning to regret it all.

 

I mean, she doesn't know why Dean skips school, or exactly why he smokes. And, she can sort of agree with the fact that Dean has never directly been mean to Cas – nor has he actually ever joined in with his friends, and anytime that he's been there, he's tried his best to distract them.

 

“I'm sorry I left you at the party.” Her eyes meet his again.

 

“I had a panic attack, but I don't blame you.” Castiel speaks quiet enough for a minuscule ant to hear, but thankfully Emmy is an expert at listening to shy people.

 

She reaches forwards, her arms wide open. Letting Cas just fall into her arms, she feels his head bump against her shoulder. He cries for a little while, and then finally wraps his own arms around her torso. Squeezing her tightly, he lets all of his emotions go.

 

“S – Sorry I'm su – such a burden,” his sobs mess up his words, as he hiccups and tries to keep his breathing steady.

 

Emmy gently pushes him away from the hug, and then holds his shoulders. “Hey, ever since I shared that cookie with you in Kindergarten – and I didn't do that lightly, you know – I wanted to be best friends with you. Yes, you can sometimes interrupt my plans,” Cas looks at her, prepared for a full on list of why he sucks.

 

“But,” Emmy continues, a smile spreading over her face now. “You're the best person I've ever known though. You're quirky, loveable, and nicer to me than anyone probably ever will be,” she picks up Castiel’s hands inside of her own, and gives them a small squeeze.

 

“I love you, for who you are.” She finalises, and kisses the top of his left palm.

 

“I love you too,” his smile is visible, despite the fact that he's trying to hide his face. He really doesn't deserve such a little ball of sunshine personified, and he wants her to know how perfect she really is. He wants her to find someone better than him – as in, someone to really love.

 

Someone clears their throat in the doorway to the kitchen, and both of the people sitting at the table flinch from the scare. “Shower’s up and running for ya,” Dean looks at Cas, who doesn't look back.

 

He mumbles a timid, but clear “thank you,” and then hurries out of the room.

 

“Clothes are in the bathroom!” Dean yells to Cas, who he can already hear going up the stairs.

 

He walks back into the kitchen, and sits down in the chair directly opposite Emmy. “Is he alright?” Dean asks, but Emmy simply scoffs.

 

“Like _you_ care,” she murmurs, more to herself than Dean.

 

He decides to leave her alone, so he leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. “Sorry I was really harsh, Cas made a point that it was really mean.” He opens one of his eyes, and a smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth.

 

“You were right though, I am a sucky person,” the Winchester shrugs. “But, it was kinda mean for such a…” Dean has to find the right words first, before finishing. “Lovely person, like you.” He chooses.

 

Emmy chuckles dryly, screwing up the bloodied kitchen towel, and standing up. Dean gestures towards the bin with his eyes, and she silently thanks him with a nod. “I couldn't really switch the heating on, but if you're cold, I can get you a blanket.” He offers, when he notices her shiver.

 

She laughs, “it's actually kinda weird, like, talking to you. I've known you as ‘Dean, another jerk jock’ for so long…” Emmy trails off, unsure of what else to say. She doesn't want to go full on sappy, and hug him for being such an amazing person. Because, she still stands half-by her original statement towards him.

 

“Thanks…? I think,” he laughs too, and then the pair of them are just standing together, laughing at who knows what.

 

But, then someone walks into the kitchen and distracts them. “Why is there a guy on your bed, asleep? Are you dating?” The young boy asks nonchalantly, and Emmy assumes that he's Dean's brother. She's never really seen him around at school.

 

All of a sudden, she processes what had just left his mouth. She watches in shock and utter confusion, as Dean marches towards the fridge, and guides his brother out of the kitchen. He doesn't let go of his shoulders, until the pair of siblings are right at the end of the hallway – just at the bottom of the staircase.

 

“Sam. That girl… Has no idea,” he begins, a stern look in his eyes, but also a strong hint of worry.

 

The boy gulps, and then realises exactly what he's done. “Shit. Dean, I'm so sorry!” He gasps, and stumbles backwards slightly.

 

“It's alright, I'll just… Say your fever is making you confused,” Sam frowns for a few moments, and Dean rolls his eyes. “Do not go and say ‘but I don't have a fever’ because I'll slap you silly – chickenpox, or no chickenpox.” He places a hand on his hip, and his younger brother is looking rather sheepish.

 

“I'm really sorry, Dean.” He says sincerely, and Dean slaps his hand.

 

“Stop scratching!” He scolds, “now go back upstairs, and get some rest.” His last instruction is clear, as Sam nods and walks back up the stairs he had just come down from.

 

Stopping halfway up, he turns around. “Could you bring me up some orange juice, please?” The stupid grin on his face half makes Dean want to go up there and hit him upside the head, but half makes him smile too.

 

“In a bit,” he mutters in annoyance, and then hurries back into the kitchen.

 

Emmy hasn't moved from the same spot she was glued to before Dean walked out. “He has a fever, isn't talking sense… You know?” The eldest Winchester forces out a chuckle, and Emmy just nods.

 

“You can go use the shower now, I left you some clothes outside of the bathroom,” he says. “Sorry if they're too big,” he repeats himself, but she audibly thanks him this time.

 

Once she's out of the kitchen, he's all alone. Hoping – kind of praying, actually – that Emmy will just let what Sam said slip out of her head.

 

~*~*~*~

 

When Emmy is out of the shower, she pulls on a pair of sweatpants that are about two sizes too big, and pulls the strings tightly. Dean has also left a plain, grey t-shirt, and a zip up hoodie too.

 

It's almost eleven am, and she returns to the kitchen. Dean is still sat at the table, biting at his nails until he notices her walk in. “You should go shower, you'll catch a cold.” The blonde shows her more caring side towards him, and he almost seems surprised.

 

The shivering individual stands up from his chair. “I'll go check on C – Cas too,” he'd gotten so used to being soaked with the rainwater and the cold temperature, that he hadn't actually realised he was shivering so much.

 

Emmy stands by the kitchen table awkwardly, and before Dean leaves the room, he turns to look at her. “You can get some food, or a drink – or, whatever. The living room is just opposite, so feel free to find some blankets and take a nap.” He offers kindly, and Emmy just wants to yell again… He's acting so nice, but she can predict that this will all change by the time they're all at school together again.

 

Once he's upstairs, he makes sure to tip-toe across the hallway. He can hear Sam making noises inside of his room, so he knows that he's awake. But, there's the sound of tiny snores coming from his room, when he presses his ear to the worn out wood.

 

Thankful to feel the hot water run over his battered body, Dean spends the longest in the shower out of all three of them. He comes out of the bathroom, ruffling his hair with his towel. When he pulls it away from his dampened face, he sees a half-asleep Cas standing in front of him.

 

“Sorry, I fell asleep on your bed.” Castiel apologises mid-yawn, rubbing his eyes regretting it when he feels the small cuts from where part of his glasses had cut into his skin earlier.

 

Dean smiles warmly, “don't worry about it.” He throws the towel to the ground, and wipes his hands on his light brown hoodie.

 

The two just stand there, and every time Dean looks over at Cas, he looks back down at the ground again. “Come on, let's go downstairs.” Dean offers, leading the way and hearing Cas’ footsteps trailing not too far behind.

 

He walks into the living room, sure enough finding Emmy standing up from the sofa. “I was just gonna ask if Cas was awake,” she begins, “we’d better get going.”

 

“Wait – I, uh – I need to talk to Dean for a minute… In private,” Castiel exclaims in a rather timid manner, and Emmy frowns.

 

She walks towards the door frame, and then stops for a second. “I'll be waiting by the door,” she tells Cas, and then goes to get her shoes from the radiator.

 

Castiel actually manages to walk inside of the room first, all the way to the end wall. Dean follows, and stands opposite him to await whatever it was that Cas needed to talk about.

 

He takes a deep breath, telling himself to just say it. “I've been asked to tutor you,” he keeps his voice down, “by the head of sixth form.” Looking up at the confusion and slight insult that shows on Dean's face, he immediately looks down again.

 

“I – I don't need tutoring,” instead of sounding angry, he sounds doubtful.

 

“I'd get extra credit for it, and I wouldn't tell anyone. I promise,” for a split second Dean gets a good look at Cas’ eye colour. It's nice to see them without tears aligning the outside, and he can't hold back the smile that's forming.

 

Dean watches as Castiel looks away again, and feels his t-shirt for something that apparently isn't there. “You haven't said yes yet?” He asks, also keeping his volume to a minimum.

 

Cas shakes his head. “Okay,” Dean breathes… “Promise you won't tell anyone?” He tries his best to receive eye contact from the shy kid in front of him, but no such luck prevails.

 

“I promise.” Castiel answers firmly.

 

~*~*~*~

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

~*~*~*~

 

Slightly unsure as to how he managed to actually make up a fake excuse to get Emmy off his back, Cas shoves the doors open to the school a little too harshly. He would've also had to make up an excuse, to tell the head of sixth form where he was earlier… But, Emmy has already called the school saying that Dean got super sick, and herself and Cas had to take him home.

  
He keeps his head down, feeling thankful to be back in his own clothes. Dean's clothes were too big, and they didn't have pins attached to them. His face is aligned with fresh cuts now, over the top of some older ones that were fading.

  
Continuing down the corridor – it's 2.15 p.m, and all students are currently in lessons – he finally reaches the office for whom he's come to see. He brings his knuckles up to the wood, and knocks twice.

  
“Come in!” A cheery voice calls out, and Castiel does as he is told.

  
He opens the door, and closes it behind him. Standing by the door and forcing his eyes to look in the general direction of his teacher sat on an office chair, he shakily inhales.

  
“Ah, Casti – what on earth happened to your face?!” His teacher’s eyes flit up from his computer screen, and land upon the battered student before him.

  
Novak’s mind races, and he tries his best to think up a lie on the spot. He should've known that he'd get asked. “I, um, fell into a rose bush whilst helping to carry Dean home,” he mumbles quietly.

  
“You should be more careful… Anyway, speaking of Dean,” Phew. He's bought it. “Have you come to a decision?” The man asks, pushing himself away from his desk, so that he can stand.

  
Cas doesn't look up from the musty carpet that his old Converse are planted upon. “I’d like to tutor him,” he says firmly.

  
“Brilliant!” He exclaims with too much enthusiasm, making Cas’ head thud even harder.

  
He goes back over to his desk, and pulls out a pile of paper from inside the drawer. “Here's everything you'll need, and I can sort out the paperwork side of things… You'll be tutoring Dean two days a week – how’s Wednesday evening and Friday evening sound?” He attempts at arranging a schedule, and Castiel is overwhelmed with information.

  
“O – okay,” he manages to nod, and then flinches as his teacher loudly claps his hands together.

  
“Report back to me next Monday, you can start to warm up this week – there's already some lesson plans in there, and also a list of Dean's strengths and weaknesses. Good luck,” he grins, and then Cas gets out of there as fast as his feet will carry him.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_Wednesday, afternoon.  
2.19p.m._ **

 

  
“Why do you think Dean isn't here?” Cas asks for the umteemth time today, and Emmy sighs quietly.

  
She shuts her book – they're currently making the most of the small amount of sun, and studying in the school grounds, since they have a free period. “He's doing what he does best – skipping,” Em tells him again.

  
“Maybe he's sick,” Castiel suggests, and Emmy scoffs.

  
“Cas, he's been skipping school for years. It's just what he does,” the blonde bites on the end of her pen. “Let's go back to mine, and finish studying there instead.” She offers.

  
Remembering his new job for extra credit, he starts to stammer slightly. “I - I've gotta help my mom out with something, at about five o’clock though.” She frowns at this new piece of information, but nods in agreement whilst collecting up her things.

  
The two friends study for two more hours, and then Cas hurries home to prepare for his first tutoring session with Dean. He's perpetually nervous, but is unsure as to why. He knows Dean, he knows his house… But, he really doesn't want to go.

  
Finding himself glancing into the dusty mirror that hangs on the back of his door – behind various coats – Cas ruffles his hair, and sighs. The red scratches still scatter his face, from the fight that he'd gotten into two days ago. They're especially bad still along the bridge of his nose, but he needs to wear his glasses if he wants to be able to see a damn thing.

  
Shrugging on a light jacket over his plain white tee (minus the small collection of pins) he leaves the house, and makes his way to Dean's. Cas doesn't forget much, so he finds his way in under ten minutes. He tries to ignore the tight feeling in his chest, feeling a sense of deja vu as he walks up to the all too familiar porch.

  
It looks a lot less threatening without all of the loud music and drunk students, though. He starts to rehearse what he's going to say inside of his head, before bringing his fist up to knock. “Ah, good, nobody's home.” He says to himself after two abrupt knocks, and then turns around with the plan of walking away.

  
“Hello?” A young, male voice answers – causing Cas to stop, dead in his tracks.

  
He slowly turns, and sees that Dean's little brother has answered the door. His hair is tousled, and he's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. “Hey, I know you! You're the guy that was asleep in Dean's bed,” the guy exclaims, and Castiel starts to feel even more anxious than he already was before.

  
“Sammy, who’re you pestering now?” A much deeper voice sounds from behind the wrapped up kid with fading spots everywhere. Dean.

  
He pushes Sam (lightly) aside, coming to the door only in sweatpants. Castiel’s eyes shoot to the ground so fast after noticing this, that he makes himself dizzy. “Wait… Cas?” At first Dean is confused, until a look of realisation dawns upon him.

  
“I'm here to t – tutor you,” Castiel shakes his little black briefcase, and then looks up again to see that Sam has gone.

  
“Come in,” Dean disappears inside, and he comes out of the kitchen with a crinkled black t-shirt on.

  
His hair clearly hasn't been styled today, because it's a lot messier than Cas remembers it to be when they're in school. His grey sweatpants sit loosely upon his hip bones, and when he lazily stretches and yawns, the tanned v-line are revealed.

  
“So – uh – you're my tutor now, huh?” Castiel scrunches his eyes and nose, confused.

  
“You're not sick… You _did_ skip school,” he blurts out suddenly, but doesn’t monitor Dean's reaction.

  
Instead of answering, Dean starts to walk into the living room. He stands by a table, that's situated a few metres behind the couch. “Is here okay?” He asks, rubbing his eyes.

  
Cas nods, and walks over to lay out his things. “Sam, I need to borrow one of your notepads!” Dean's bare feet wander along the carpet, as he yells out to wherever his little brother went.

  
“Bite me!” The sarcastic, younger sibling yells back.

  
Castiel is now utterly confused. He doesn't have any siblings, and even if he did, he wouldn't ever understand their quirky insults. Eventually, the youngest Winchester comes back downstairs, and hands Dean some stationary and paper. “Have fun,” he smiles smugly, and Cas knows that he's joking this time.

  
Still not seated, he looks around the room whilst Dean is distracted. There's a few old photos of the brothers, looking happy. There's a couple with a blonde haired woman, and in one particular photo he sees whom he assumes to be toddler Dean – a beaming smile, face full of adorable freckles, and a hopeful glint in his bright, green eyes… What happened?

  
“That's my Mom,” obviously having noticed him staring, Cas quickly snaps out of it.

  
“She's really beautiful,” he can't stop himself from admiring the woman, and then he looks back to Dean.

  
“I know,” the smile that appears looks sad, but it's gone as quickly as it came. “Anyway, sit down.” He gestures to the chair opposite his own, and Castiel does so.

  
He takes out the papers from his case, and jabs his glasses higher up his nose – a painful mistake to make. Wincing slightly, he hides his discomfort behind the stack of papers in front of his face. “I think today I'm supposed to tell you our lesson plan… So,” he prepares himself for a lengthy explanation.

  
After telling Dean which subjects they're going to cover – his weak areas are Math, English, some parts of Science, and mainly spelling. Dean listens carefully, and feels a little daunted at all of what Castiel tells him. They are going to be doing this until next September, so they do have ten months – it's currently mid-November.

  
“Do you want to tell me anything that you struggle with the most? I've only been given a list from what Mr. Green tells me, not a personal point of view.” The Winchester wonders how Cas isn't out of breath yet, he's just talked more than he's ever heard him do before, in a matter of minutes.

  
Shaking his head, Dean stays quiet. “Oh… Well, can you complete this for me?” Novak slides him a sheet of paper, which turns out to be a spelling test.

  
“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” He deadpans, and his green eyes darken.

  
Cas bites his tongue, telling himself inside his head that he needs to look up. There's no use in teaching Dean how to learn, if he can barely even look in his general direction. “Please,” he tries, and is pleased to hear the scratching of a pencil to paper.

  
Strangely, it takes Dean exactly twenty one minutes and sixteen seconds, to complete the fifteen question spelling test. “I wasn't really trying,” he murmurs, twirling the paper back around to face Castiel.

  
“I'm sure you did your best,” Cas shrugs – I mean, he literally just saw the concentration on Dean's face with his own two eyes.

  
He takes about half the time to mark the paper, and frowns at the silly mistakes that were made. A few of the easy ones were jumbled up by a few letters here and there, causing Cas to ponder for a moment. “Have you ever considered the fact that you may be mildly dyslexic?” The question is so blunt, that Dean laughs to his face.

  
“Sorry, I don't mean to – I'm a little too blunt sometimes…” He trails off, and looks up at Dean's face.

  
The whole of Dean's body language points to feeling uncomfortable right now – biting his lip, false (he's pretty sure it's false) laughing, and avoiding eye contact. “Did I offend you?” Novak asks, attracting the green eyes back down to earth again.

  
Dean opens his mouth to speak, but then shuts it again. “I don't know,” is all he can utter, and he's glad that he didn't snap at Cas. That's another terrible habit of Dean's… His damn anger.

  
Castiel places the completed spelling test neatly back into his briefcase, and then scans over his papers again. “I have a math assessment here too, but you can do that on Friday, if you like.” He offers, looking around the room for any sign of a clock.

  
“Assuming that these things last an hour, we still got forty minutes left,” Dean chuckles.

  
He still seems distracted away from everything, and the silence is close to swallowing Cas whole. He cannot do small talk, so he just looks at the wall of pictured again. “What's your Mom’s name?” Finding himself being drawn back to that particular photo once again, he's quite proud for finding something to say.

  
Dean doesn't want to talk about his Mom right now, of all times. But… He doesn't want to be rude to Cas, either. “Mary,” he chews the inside of his cheek, and blinks violently.

  
“That's nice,” Castiel uses a simple, rehearsed response.

  
But, Dean’s body language and facial expression is definitely telling him to leave it alone. So, he does. “Dean?” His head looks up. “Am I offending you?” Cas asks again, and watches the person opposite him frown.

  
“No, it's just – can we talk about something else?” The small rise in his volume makes Castiel visibly jump.

  
He nods, and then brushes his fingers along his pins. The tightness in his throat is slowly returning, and his mind is asking him why on earth he'd even thought that this was a good idea. He can barely look anyone in the eye, he can't make conversation, he doesn't understand Dean's jokes, and he's already close to hyperventilating.

  
“I'm gonna go get us some soda,” a voice interrupts his thoughts, and then Dean leaves the room.

  
He wanders into the kitchen, shaking his head about the current situation in the living room. Hearing someone walk in behind him, he looks around the fridge door to see Sam.

  
“Dude, this isn't going well,” he admits, cracking the can open and taking a long gulp.

  
Sam leans against the kitchen counter, and looks deep in thought. “You say he had a panic attack at your party, yeah? And, that he couldn't look you directly in the eye…?” His brother asks, and Dean nods casually.

  
“Yeah, what're you getting at?”

  
“But, whilst you speak.. Can you feel him observing you? Your body language, and stuff like that?” Sam continues to ask questions about the nervous tutor, and Dean continues to agree.

  
“Yeah, so what?” His older brother looks utterly lost, as he downs the rest of the contents inside the can.

  
Sam pauses, trying to find the right words. “I think he might be autistic – maybe even have Aspergers too,” his statement at first shocks Dean, but then he remembers someone from their elementary school. Dean used to go to them for help on his homework, and everyone else used to just bully him.

  
“Are you serious?” He whispers under his breath, starting to piece things together in his own head now.

  
“Not for sure, no. But, it would make sense – he reminds me a lot like Jess’ kid brother, that's all. Her brother is both autistic, and has Aspergers… But, he finds it a lot harder to put himself into social situations than Cas does. The spectrum is very wide, mind you.” Sam muses, and then fills himself a glass of water.

  
Realising that he's still holding the extra soda for Cas, Dean starts to panic a little. “What do I do?” He asks suddenly, beginning to worry.

  
“Don't treat him any damn differently, that's what you do!” Sam gives him a look of shock, and Dean cringes a little.

  
“I know, I know – I mean, I just –”

  
“Wait for him to tell you,” Sam says, “for all we know, I could be totally wrong.” He finishes, and then pats Dean’s shoulder before leaving the room.

  
Wondering what to do with this secret piece of information, Dean returns to the living room in complete silence. Cas is still sat at the table, but now he's drawing on a blank sheet of paper. “Sorry that took so long, Sam came to talk to me.” Dean doesn't lie, but he just doesn't inform Cas what they had talked about.

  
The boy jumps, and hides the paper underneath some books. “Thank you,” he says, when Dean puts his soda onto the table.

  
“You're welcome.”

  
For the next half an hour, they sit in the utmost awkward of silences. Castiel gives Dean the Math assessment to do, because otherwise they'd be doing nothing. He hands it back at the end of the half an hour, and Cas explains that he’ll mark it at home.

  
“I have to come again on Friday,” he tells Dean, whilst gathering up his things.

  
“Okay,” Cas glances upwards, noticing that Dean's body language seems to be tense.

  
“Is that alright?” He asks, snapping the briefcase shut.

  
Dean shrugs. “I guess so,” he heads towards the front door, and opens it for Cas.

  
“See you around,” he even half-smiles, which causes Cas to be able to relax a little bit.

  
He waves indirectly to Dean, and then hurries down the steps. Hearing the door close when he reaches the end of the front yard, Castiel lets out a huge sigh of relief.

  
~*~*~*~

  
When Castiel arrives home, he draws in his journal. He thinks about how he acted nervously around Dean, and how he had to keep asking him questions. Feeling awkward, he decides to take a nap before he cooks his dinner.

  
Dean, however, sits in his room thinking about Cas’ eyes. He can't help but picture the beautiful concoction of blues. They remind him of the ocean, and the twinkle that they hold when they're happy must be mesmerising… No, Dean. Stop it.

  
Deciding that taking a nap would be best, he settles down on his bed. Hoping that when he wakes up, he’ll have forgotten Cas’ eyes in a flash.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_Friday Lunchtime._ **

 

  
Dean wasn't at school yesterday. And, Cas had a very near miss with the jocks again. But, thankfully a teacher was nearby to save the day. They keep laughing and making gay jokes about Dean, and it makes Castiel feel sad and angry. But, he never does anything about it towards them… That would be stupid.

  
Novak is currently sat at his usual table in the library, drawing galaxies in one of his smaller sketch pads. His eyes concentrate on the different shades of purple, and he smiles satisfactory.

  
“Hey, this seat taken?” A familiar voice asks, and Cas looks up in surprise.

  
“You're in school again!” He exclaims to the guy standing above him, who laughs slightly at his sudden exclamation.

  
Dean sits opposite Cas, and looks at his drawing. “That's cool,” he says. Castiel checks his face for any signs of sarcasm, but he seems to be acting genuine.

  
“R – really?” He asks, removing the sleeve of his sweater from covering the rest of the page.

  
After removing the garment, he reveals all of the other rainbow coloured galaxies that are strewn in a organised chaos, across the page. A smile spreads across Dean's face, as he looks at the artwork before him. He never really paid attention to what Cas does at school, so he didn't even realise that he could draw like this.

  
“Hey, where's Emmy?” The Winchester wonders aloud – knowing that usually she would be right here, beside him.

  
Castiel’s face drops, and he sighs quietly. “She got detention… Some of her work got ruined when we dropped it all on Monday, and her teacher who was collecting in the homework didn't believe her.” He explains, and Dean frowns.

  
“That's stupid,” he rubs his face, revealing the alignment of cuts along his knuckles.

  
Cas nods once. He shuts his sketchbook, and then looks at Dean. “How come you're in the library?” He's shocked at himself for making conversation, and Dean feels the same way.

  
“I don't really want to face the jocks,” he admits, looking down at his hands.

  
Castiel knows the feeling. He's wondering in his mind what to say next, but he kind of just wants to be left alone so that he can draw. Thankfully, Dean's phone begins to vibrate from inside his pocket.

  
And now, Cas is alone again.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Cas didn't see Dean anymore for the whole school day, and then after school he walked home with Emmy again. She asked if he wanted to hang out, but of course, he has to tutor Dean. So, he politely declined and said that he was super tired.

  
Now, he's on his way to Dean's again. His glasses keep on slipping down his nose, because his face is kind of clammy from the nerves. The brogues on his feet clack along the paved floor, apart from when he stamps on any leaves that are stuck to the paving stones.

  
Just as he turns into Dean's block, he noticed someone walking towards him. They're lighting up a cigarette, and dressed in all black – just like Dean was, today at school. “Hey, Cas!” They yell, waving at him with their cigarette bouncing in between their lips.

  
Cas knows that it's Dean jogging towards him by now, so he stops and waits for him to reach the end of the block. “Listen,” slightly out of breath, he pants, “my Dad is home, so I was wondering if we could do the lesson somewhere else?” He asks, turning around to blow the smoke behind him so that it doesn't go obnoxiously towards Castiel’s face.

  
“Like where?” Castiel can feel his heartbeat quickening… He called him ‘Cas’ again.

  
Dean continues to take long drags from the stick between his teeth, shakily removing it from his mouth whilst it's wedged between two of his bruised fingers. “Your house? It looks like it's gonna rain,” Dean looks up at the grey clouds.

  
Despite the fact that Cas’ house is currently empty, he's not sure how he feels about letting someone who's practically still a stranger inside of it. Chewing on the inside of his mouth Castiel tries to pluck up some courage. “Okay,” he stares at the ground, and watches with intent concentration as Dean tosses his cigarette to the floor, stamping out it out his heel.

  
“Let's go,” Dean looks behind him, as if he might be being followed.

  
Breaking into a light run just to catch up with Dean, Cas can then walk beside him. They're silent for a while, but Castiel needs to ask him something. “Dean?” He says, toying with a bumblebee pin that's on the collar of his shirt that sits beneath his sweater.

  
“Yeah?” Dean answers simply.

  
“How come you call me Cas?” He asks, wondering if Dean likes him. He doesn't really have friends – apart from Emmy – but he'd really like some more.

  
Dean doesn't answer at first, he just pulls out his packet of cigarettes. “It sounds good,” he eventually shrugs, and stuffs the cardboard back into his pocket.

  
Castiel plays his answer over in his head… That's an okay answer. He decides not to ask Dean anything else, because he seems to be a little agitated about something or other – maybe his Dad?

  
Soon they're back at Cas’ place. Sighing as he unlocks the door, he wishes that Dean would've informed him of this change, earlier on at school. “Uh, my Mom hates mess, so could you put your shoes on the mat, please?” Castiel asks politely, looking down at Dean's muddy Dr. Marten boots.

  
A look of nostalgia washes over his face, as he tugs at the worn out footwear. Dean places them on the mat, as neat as can be. “Is that okay?” He asks sincerely, and Cas nods in approval.

  
“My Dad usually uses our living room table as his working area, so I guess we’ll have to use my room.” Castiel tells Dean, and heads towards the carpeted flight of stairs at the end of the hallway.

  
Having had no previous warning to say that Dean would be entering his home, Castiel feels extremely nervous about Dean seeing his bedroom. He hasn't had time to hide any of the posters on galaxies and stars, or clear away his art materials from his desk.

  
When he opens the door, Dean follows inside closely behind him. He looks around in awe – Cas’ bedroom is way more creative than his. There's a pin board just above his bed, that has different pins and a few photos attached to it. There's a Polaroid of himself and Emmy, at what looks to be on his birthday (they're both wearing party hats, and he has a cake in front of him.)

  
There's also a framed photo of two young adults – the woman looks a lot like Cas – that's resting on a clear spot on his desk. Dean doesn't pry about who they are, but he wonders if the baby photo next to it links together in some way… Like, an unfinished family photo of sorts.

  
“I suppose we could sit on my bed,” Castiel is still waiting for Dean to close the door, but instead he's looking around Cas’ room like he's at an art museum.

  
“Oh, yeah sure.” He mumbles in response, getting the message and pushing the door shut behind him.

  
Cas sits down on the deep blue duvet, closest to the matching pillow. He crosses his legs, and then starts to empty his briefcase. Dean does the same, sitting opposite him. “How many more tests do I have to take?” The Winchester asks, propping his chin up with his hand.

  
“Just two math ones, and a general one for science.” Cas explains, handing him a calculator and one of the tests.

  
The room goes quiet, and the only noise is the click clacking of the keys on the calculator. Dean's brow furrows with concentration, and he doesn't notice when Castiel looks up to observe him. His tongue brushes along his lips, as he frowns even harder at a certain question.

  
“You're staring,” Cas jumps so hard that he knocks a few papers from the bed.

  
“I – I was just, um…” Feeling an ultimate sensation of embarrassment, he can't even think of an excuse. He was staring at Dean.

  
His cheeks turn a shade of baby pink, and Dean looks up from his paper. A chuckle escapes him, and he lowers his head to try and catch Castiel’s eye. “I'm just gonna go to the bathroom, carry on with your paper.” Novak mutters, and then hurries out of the room as fast as he can without seeming strange.

  
The bathroom door closes behind him, and he steadies his breathing. This doesn't usually happen. It's just, he's never spent this much time with anyone but Emmy before. And, Emmy is his best friend. Dean is just a stranger… So, why does he keep finding his eyes looking upwards at his face?

  
Castiel’s mind races, as he splashes a handful of cold water over his complexion. “Dammit,” he hits his palm against the sink in frustration – he forgot to take his glasses off.

  
The nervous wreck takes a seat upon the closed toilet, and rests his head in his hands. He's had a handful of crushes in his lifetime. But, he never once thought that he'd be adding Dean freakin’ Winchester to that list.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Emmy kicks a stray stone along the sidewalk. She's almost at Cas’ house, and she's determined to get some answers. She knows that he's been acting shady about why he can't hang out with her lately, but she doesn't want to let him know that she's onto him.

  
She can read him like a damn book, but he still manages to become a mystery novel every now and then. Emmy skips up the steps that lead to his front porch, and carefully tries the door – it's open.

  
His parents aren't home (she knows their schedule by now), so she knows that it's safe to creep inside. Her eyes at first fall upon the messy pair of combat boots, that sit on the mat by the door. Emmy frowns, placing her own shoes nearby the Unknown pair.

  
Her feet quietly pad against the carpet steps that lead upwards towards Cas’ bedroom. She can see that the door is slightly ajar, so she walks up to it and gently knocks upon the wood with her knuckles. “Cas? It's me,” she calls out.

  
There's no answer, but she hears a crash coming from the bathroom. Frowning, the curiosity takes over her, and she pushes open the bedroom door before someone can unlock the bathroom.

  
“Dean?!”

  
“Emmy?” Two voices yell at once, and then Cas bursts in behind her.

  
Dean is still sitting on the bed, papers strewn over the duvet likes it's a school desk. Emmy doesn't understand what's happening, but when she turns around and sees Cas, she can tell that he's feeling anxious.

  
He grabs her hand when her mouth opens to try and form words, and leads her all the way downstairs. They get inside the tiny kitchen, and he rubs his trembling hands over his face.

  
“I can explain,” he says, watching Emmy fold her arms.

  
She stays silent, waiting for him to go on. “I'm tutoring Dean,” he begins, having to take a breath before continuing “and, I didn't tell you because I know you hate him, and I didn't want to upset you or have you worrying about me.” He finishes his sentence in a timid tone, and looks down at his mismatched socks.

  
A sigh leaves Emmy’s mouth, and she unfolds her arms. “I don't hate him, I just… Strongly dislike the guy,” she shrugs, beginning to giggle. “Cas, you don't ever have to hide anything from me, now come here.” She opens her arms, and he falls into them gratefully.

  
“I'm having trouble socialising during our lessons,” his voice is muffled into her shoulder, as she gently rubs circles against his back.

  
“Do you want me to stay?” She asks kindly, and Castiel steps backwards, out of the hug.

  
He shakes his head hesitantly, and readjusts his glasses. “No, it's alright. I can do this on my own,” he reassures himself as well as his best friend, and then he goes to fill himself a glass of water.

  
Emmy nods. “You're still coming over to meet Honey tomorrow, though… Right?” Castiel takes a sip of the cool liquid, and then excitedly nods in approval.

  
“Of course, I am!” A genuine grin spreads across his face.

  
Emmy smiles widely also, and then she starts to walk out of the kitchen. “Call me if you need anything,” she tells him, as they stop at the bottom of the stairs.

  
“Thank you.” their blue eyes meet, and then Cas turns around and starts climbing up the stairs again.

  
When he goes back into his room, Dean's staring into space and he hasn't moved from the spot that he was previously sat in. “I finished the paper.” He hands him the math paper, and smiles a little.

  
“Sorry, about that,” Castiel mumbles, and takes the paper from his hands.

  
“You didn't tell Emmy then?” Dean asks casually, as Cas takes his seat again.

  
Shaking his head, he flicks through the paper. “She, um, she – well, um…” He trips over his words, trying not to offend Dean by being blunt.

  
“Doesn't like me?” The Winchester quips, rubbing his chin.

  
Castiel blinks. “Well, you could say that,” he jokes, and Dean chuckles.

  
“I understand why, I mean I hang around with the people that are mean to you, I smoke, I skip school… What's to like?” Castiel feels his heart drop. Does Dean really feel that way about himself, or is he just describing how he thinks Emmy sees him?

  
They sit quietly for a bit, avoiding each others eye contact. “I like you though,” Castiel says.

  
They both look up at the same time, and for a split second blue meets green. “Thanks… I like you too,” a smirk plays upon Dean's face, and Cas bites down hard on his gum.

  
“The lesson is over now, I'll – uh – see you next Wednesday, or at school.” Castiel says, after glancing at his watch.

  
A quiet sigh escapes the Winchester’s lips, and he gets down from the bed. “See you on Monday,” he smiles, and walks out of Castiel’s bedroom.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_Sunday morning._ **

 

  
Castiel has a small skip in his step as he makes his way to his usual Emmy meeting place. She picked her new puppy up yesterday, and she's now taking her for the first walk after settling into her new home.

  
His face lights up as he sees that she's already there, holding a small bundle of golden fluff. “Emmy!” Cas calls a little quietly, so as not to scare the puppy.

  
She smiles at him, waving with her free hand. The fluffy lining inside his denim jacket is soft against his slightly cold skin, and his hands are deep inside his pockets. He's wearing a light grey NASA shirt underneath, a pair of black skinny jeans, and a matte pair of black (soft on the inside) Dr. Martens.

  
He jogs over so that he's now under the tree, and a he breaks into a smile. “She's so cute!” He's doing a small dance with his feet, struggling to keep his hands inside his pockets.

  
“You can pet her,” Emmy chuckles, putting the dog onto the grass.

  
Castiel bends down to the same height as the adorable animal, and starts to pet her. The puppy is timid at first, but then she soon warms up to him, and climbs onto his lap. Cas giggles, as the puppy nuzzles into his chest.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Dean kicks a stray stone along the sidewalk, and places a fresh stick of gum inside of his mouth. Sam glances sideways at him, and rolls his eyes. “I know you're only overloading on the gum and cologne to try and hide from dad that you reek of cigarettes,” he deadpans. “By the way, it's not working.”

  
Dean chews the gum for a few moments, trying to hide the fact that Sam's comment upset him. “I'm allowed to smoke when I'm stressed,” he mumbles more to himself than anyone else.

  
As the siblings veer out of their block, they hear sounds of genuine happiness. Dean looks up, and he can see two people crouched down under a tree. “Hey, isn't that – they have a puppy?!” Sam explains, getting distracted from what he was originally going to say.

  
Staring over at Cas, Dean doesn't even realise that he's started to smile whilst watching him. He can see Castiel laughing as the puppy climbs all over him, and when the dog barks he hears Cas laugh even harder. He's never really seen him that comfortable before, so he doesn't want to walk over and ruin it.

  
“Let's go this way,” Dean tells Sam, who's more interested in the nearby puppy more than anything else.

  
“Let's not,” Sam counteracts, grabbing Dean's wrist and forcefully walking him across the road.

  
Of course, Sam has met Emmy and Cas briefly before – when Dean took them back to his house, after the big school right – but, he doesn't realise who they are until he's up close. He isn't phased though, since he usually gets along with everyone.

  
“What's their name?” Sam asks, bringing Emmy's attention to the newcomer.

  
She smiles, but it fades away as she spots Dean lingering behind his younger brother. “Honey,” Emmy replies, only talking directly at Sam.

  
Cas has the little pup on his lap now, and he's sat cross legged in the grass. The dog keeps nuzzling into his face, making him giggle as he pets the dog between the ears. Dean feels himself smiling, but tries to stop it. Castiel hasn't even been paying attention to who's standing nearby, until Honey starts to bark, and leaps down from his legs.

  
She shuffles over to the sidewalk, and starts toying with Dean's shoelace. Cas turns around, his heart skipping a beat when he sees who's taken the puppy’s interest. “Hey, stop it,” Dean mutters half-heartedly, trying to act grumpy.

  
The dog starts to playfully growl at his shoe, and starts to paw his ankle. A small laugh falls from the elder Winchester’s mouth, and he crouches down. “Alright, I'll pet you a little bit,” he whispers, starting to feel the golden, soft coat.

  
Sam grins, watching his brother. “You have a soft spot for the puppy,” he teases – and, even Cas is smiling without realising it.

  
The puppy barks playfully, gnawing on Dean's knuckles. He ruffles beside the dog’s ears, and then stands up again, realising that he had gotten caught up in the moment.

  
“We’d better go,” he looks over at his younger brother, who's stupidly staring at the puppy in awe still.

  
Castiel picks up the small animal, using it as an excuse to not have to socialise with Sam or Dean. The youngest Winchester opens his mouth to protest, but Dean starts to drag him away. “Seeya!” Sam calls out, smiling and waving towards both Emmy and Cas.

  
Emmy waves back, and then turns to Castiel. He places her dog back onto the floor, and smiles a tiny smile. “I like Honey, she's so cute,” he states, toying with a pin on his jacket.

  
“She likes you too!” The blonde grins, watching as her dog runs back over to Cas again, and starts pawing at his footwear.

  
They stay outside for a while, until they get cold. Emmy invites Cas back to her house, and of course he accepts. He enjoys the company of his best friend, and her new puppy a lot… they make him feel safe, and like he belongs.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

_**Monday morning,** _   
_**12.04p.m.** _

 

  
Cas struggles to keep up with Emmy, as she weaves her way through the students in the hallways. They usually eat lunch in the quietest place possible, but today she forgot to pack food, so they're quickly heading into the canteen.

  
“Where do you think Dean is?” Cas asks, feeling himself being yanked out of the way from a gaggle of year sevens.

  
Emmy sighs, veering him through the entrance of the cafeteria. “Skiving, like usual – it's what he does, Cas,” she explains, stopping once they're in the queue to buy food.

  
Cas doesn't understand… he was fine yesterday. He looked happy, despite ignoring Castiel’s presence – he's used to that anyway. But, why would he stay home today? Castiel is tutoring him for a reason, and if he stays home, he’ll never get his grades back up.

  
“Cas, _hello?_ ” Emmy’s hand waves in front of his ocean eyes, causing him to snap out of his dream world.

  
“Sorry,” he mumbles, moving along with the line.

  
The rest of the day travels by slow. Cas sits quietly in his English Lit lesson – as usual, – only talking when Charlie asks him for a pen. Emmy has an extra revision lesson after school, so he hurries home before any of the jocks get out of practice.

  
It's quiet when he starts getting nearer to the tree where he usually waits for Emmy in the mornings. But, as he squints and looks a little closer, there's someone leans against it. Someone with a cigarette between their lips. Dean.

  
Castiel nervously bites his bottom lip, poking his glasses up his nose. He's contemplating turning around and waiting for Dean to go, but he's already started waving. Cas sighs heavily, brushing his fingers over some of his pins… Did Dean wait there on purpose?

  
“You weren't at school,” Castiel says quietly, looking down at his worn out sneakers.

  
Dean drops his cig to the floor, and twists his heel over the top of it. “I wasn't,” he replies, and Cas flashes his eyes upwards towards his face.

  
“Why? You need good grades,” he sounds frustrated, and Dean looks shocked.

  
“Cas, I never go to school… you're tutoring me, I can get good grades from that,” he snaps back harshly, and Castiel steps backwards slightly.

  
“I'm not tutoring you until Wednesday,” he looks confused, and stares at the tree beside him.

  
Dean remembers what Sam had said to him, and softens his tone more. “Sorry, Cas… it's just, it's complicated.”

  
“Then explain it to me,” a small ounce of confidence flickers inside of the boy, and he actually looks Dean in the eye.

  
He's so captivated by the intense shade of green, that he doesn't look away. Dean stares back, his eyes flickering from the blue, to the baby pink of Cas’ lips. “We’d be here for ages,” his voice is practically reduced to a whisper, and Cas gulps.

  
“I gotta go,” Dean suddenly announces, turning on his heel.

  
Castiel doesn't move from the spot he was stood in before, watching as Dean walks away. He doesn't yell ‘wait!’ like his mind is so desperately telling him to, he doesn't even follow him. He just stands there.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_The next night,  
5.13p.m._ **

 

  
Castiel sits opposite Emmy, on her bed sheets. He has Honey safely sleeping in his lap, and is gently stroking her head. “Emmy?” Cas asks, and she looks up from her work.

  
“Hmm?” She hums, not expecting eye contact.

  
“I saw Dean yesterday, after school.” He gets distracted as Honey wakes up, and starts pawing at his knee. “I looked him in the eye – um, again.” Castiel continues, clearly surprising his friend, who almost audibly gasps.

  
“And…?”

  
“He has very nice eyes.” Cas shrugs.

  
Emmy smiles slightly. “Do you like him?” She asks – Emmy has known about Cas’ sexuality for a long time now, since he explained it to her one night a few years ago. She never judged him for it, and he's still thankful for this.

  
Cas looks up, frowning. “N – no,” he stammers, looking away as they catch eye contact together.

  
“Okay,” Emmy replies simply. She doesn't want to push him about his crushes, since he's probably never told Emmy about one before… like, ever. She goes back to her school work, leaving Cas staring into space.

  
The pair study for the next hour or so, before Castiel has to walk home. Emmy walks with him, just to make sure that he gets home safely.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_Wednesday,  
3.16p.m._ **

 

  
Cas is making a direct beeline for the exit, trying to dodge all of the students and keep his eyes on the floor at the same time. Emmy has an extra hour of math tonight, because her teacher is trying tote her grades up. He doesn't like walking home alone, but he's trying to focus on getting to Dean’s house to distract him.

  
As he pushes the front doors open, he feels something get stuck to his backpack. He gets yanked backwards, and spun around to be faced with the puffed out chest of an all too familiar jock. “Going somewhere?” They jeer, looking down on him.

  
“Home,” Cas says with all of his might, stepping backwards.

  
He turns to leave again, and manages to make it outside. The guy follows him, sticking out his foot and stupidly Cas is too busy staring at the sidewalk ahead of him to notice, so he goes tumbling to the concrete flooring. His hands save him from face planting the floor, and the cool layer of rainwater spreads over his palms.

  
A sharp kick hits him in the side, and now he's lying on the sidewalk. Someone calls over to the jock, and Cas doesn't know nor care who it is, because it distracts the jock for long enough so that he can haul himself up, grab his books, and run away.

  
He doesn't stop running until he veers into his block, and then he collapses against the usual tree where he waits for Emmy. Wheezy breaths suck in and out of his lungs, and sudden pains start appearing around his body. His knees hurt, and his palms sting. There's tears in his eyes from running so fast, with the wind whooshing past him.

  
“Hey, are you o –” Cas feels an unknown hand on his shoulder, and spins around so fast that he startled the stranger.

  
“Dean,” Castiel exhales heavily, and clutches his tightening chest.

  
“What happened?” He asks, his eyes traveling over Castiel’s beaten down figure. “You're bleeding.”

  
Cas opens his mouth to speak, but is greeted by a painful cough instead. “Hey, just breathe… it’s alright,” Dean offers helpfully, making sure not to touch Cas again.

  
“I – I'm not having a panic attack this time, I'm – I ran, I – someone, I fell… my books are wet,” a tear trails down his cheek, but he's too cold to notice.

  
Dean blinks, overwhelmed by all of the stammering and blurted out information. “Okay,” he simply states, digging into his pocket.

  
He hands Cas a tissue. “Your cheek has a graze,” he points out, but Castiel shakes his head.

  
“I'm fine.” he folds his arms over his chest, symbolising he doesn't want it.

  
Dean shrugs, stuffing it back into the pocket that it came from. “Well, listen… my Dad isn't home, so we can go there – I just left to smoke,” he admits, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

  
“Let’s go, I'll get you cleaned up.” Dean starts walking, and Cas follows.

  
“I'm fine,” he says through gritted teeth, finding that his clothes must've gotten wet from the fall, so he's starting to feel the cold more now.

  
They hurry up the porch steps, and Dean opens the front door. “Go sit in the living room, I’ll get some ice,” he says.

  
“Just let me tutor you,” Cas’ teeth chatter together slightly.

  
“At least let me get you a change of clothes,” he counteracts, to which Castiel nods shyly.

  
Despite feeling uncomfortable in Dean’s clothes, Cas tries his best to tutor Dean on Math. The elder Winchester looks up, seeing Castiel fidget uncomfortably in his chair. “You can put some pins on the sweater, I mean, if you want to…” he trails off, seeing that Cas is intently staring at his paper – he's drawing something.

  
He has no idea that Dean is watching him, so when he takes a quick peek upwards to briefly glance at Dean's features, he feels his cheeks growing warmer by the second. “Are you drawing me?” A smile spreads across the Winchester’s face.

  
“I – uh – yeah…” Cas utters quietly. “It's just a space sketch kinda thing though.” His hand moves away from the paper, to reveal what he's drawn – it's the outline of Dean’s head, with galaxies, stars and planets surrounding him.

  
“That's so cool,” Dean gushes, and Castiel frowns.

  
“Really?” He asks, genuine surprise laced throughout his tone.

  
“Yeah… how come you don't take art at school?” Dean questions, pushing his paper aside so that he can lean further over the table.

  
Castiel can't move his eyes away from Dean’s, but when he does, he finds them trailing downwards to his lips. They quickly flicker back up again, and he notices something strange. Dean wasn't looking him in the eye either.

  
“Uh, I – I kinda don't feel good… do you mind if I go home?” Cas stammers, reaching for a pin, but remembering that he's wearing one of Dean’s sweaters.

  
He stands up from his chair, almost tripping over his own feet. Castiel makes a beeline for the front door, his brain clouding over and not being able to focus on anything but getting out of the current situation. He isn't going to make a fool out of himself in this house again… why did he ever agree to this in the first place? It was always going to go wrong, no matter what.

  
“Cas!” Castiel ignores the yelling coming from behind him, and tumbles out of the front door. He breaks into a run, not caring that Dean is most likely behind him watching. He won't follow Cas – why would he?

  
He keeps on running until he gets to his own front door, and takes out his – then housekey… which was in his bag. Which is at Dean’s still, along with his clothing and sketchbook. Crap. Cas kicks the bottom of his front door, and balls up his fists, thumping those against the wood too. His body sinks to the floor, and he sits down on his porch, knowing that he’ll have to wait until his parents come home, and think up some random excuse as to why he's locked himself out.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

_**Thursday morning,** _   
_**8.35a.m.** _

 

  
“You sure you're okay?” Emmy asks again, trying to study Cas’ micro expressions before he can keep shying away.

  
“I'm fine.” Castiel's tone is harsher than usual, so his friend knows to leave it alone now. They walk in silence for the rest of the way, and then to their separate ways to lessons.

  
He sits in silence for basically every single lesson – like always, really. At lunchtime he doesn't seek out Emmy, he just walks to the library. Emmy won't find him if she knows he's purposely avoiding her, so he should be safe. Well, he thought he'd be left alone…

  
“Hi,” a small voice mumbles, as the person slides into the seat opposite.

  
Cas looks up, only somewhat surprised as to who he sees. He looks down so fast that is glasses almost slide off of his nose. “I bought the stuff you left behind.” Dean slides a satchel over the table, and tries to get Castiel to see him smile.

  
“Thank you.” His voice is barely audible. Dean gets up out of the chair, and starts walking away. All Cas wants to do is yell ‘wait!’ But, he stays silent. And, watches him walk out of sight again.

  
For the rest of the day Cas is mentally scolding himself for not telling Dean to stay. He sits in last period with little concentration on the topic of learning, but thankfully doesn't get called out on it – when you're top of the class, you don't usually get picked on much.

  
He stays behind in the library, so that he’ll avoid the mad rush to leave the school building – therefore being able to (hopefully) avoid the jocks. As Cas nears the corner he needs to turn in order to leave the premises, he hears a gaggle of painfully familiar jeers.

  
“Why do you never hang around with us anymore, huh?” Castiel freezes to the spot, and closes his eyes.

  
“Yeah! Hey, what you got in there?” Another one says, and Cas wonders whether to run or just stay as still and as quite as he possibly can.

  
“Nothin’. Just leave me alone,”

  
_Dean._

  
Castiel’s eyes snap open, and he creeps right to the edge of the brick wall. He peeks around the corner, to see three of the jocks surrounding the eldest Winchester. He's leant up against the wall, being shoved left and right as they snoop around in his backpack. One of them pulls up a neatly rolled up piece of paper, and starts to laugh.

  
“What's this shit?” The boy snorts, looking at whatever is on the paper. The others jeer along, and one of them grabs it – giving Cas a glance of what's on there.

  
His gasp causes him to violently clap his hand over his mouth. “He kept it…” Castiel whispers, a feeling of warmth coating his heart. Dean kept his drawing. He put it in his backpack… but, what does that even mean?

  
“Hey, give that back!” Castiel watches again, looking on as Dean tries to snatch the drawing back into his own grasp.

  
The guys simply laugh, and pass it around to one another. Dean's fists are clenching and unclenching at a fast pace, and his jaw is screwed shut so tightly his teeth could probably crack. _“Give. It. Back.”_ He sucks in a sharp intake of breath through his nose, staring at the ground.

  
A small sound of tearing paper is the only sound that fills their surroundings. One of the jocks drops the paper into a puddle, and starts sniggering. “Fuck you.” Dean snaps, shoving past them with such force that the main antagoniser almost falls flat onto the sidewalk.

  
Cas moves a little more out of sight and into the shadows, his eyes following as Dean’s combat boots stomp hard against the paving stones. He wants to follow him, he wants to help. Then, he remembers something… the secret route that Dean had showed them that day, behind the bleachers. Castiel’s sneakers pick up such a fast pace that they almost skid over against the pools of rain, as he tears towards the playing field.

  
He kicks at the piece of wood that covers the gate with all of his might, feeling a pain tug at his muscles, but ignoring it. Castiel climbs clumsily through the gap, and then shoves it back into place again. He doesn't stop running, he doesn't look back. His feet splash in various puddles as he goes, creating tiny pools inside of his shoes.

  
In fact, Cas doesn't stop running until he turns into his block, and sees a slowly fading figure at the end of the road. The cloud of smoke that follows the boy lets him know that he's made it in time, so he stops, takes in a deep breath, and… “Dean! Wait!” Castiel’s voice travels in the wind, swirling all the way towards Dean’s eardrums.

  
The Winchester stops abruptly, and slowly turns. The pair look directly at each other from the distance that they're standing at – some may compare it to one of those slow motion running in the fields preparation shots, but Cas wouldn't really get the reference – and, then Dean cracks a smile. He wipes his jacket sleeve over his eyes, and then starts making his way over to where Cas is quaking in his Converse.

  
“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s cigarette bounces in his mouth as he talks. Castiel looks up from the watery ground, and is met with a pair of watery, green eyes.

  
He frowns. “The jocks… they upset you?” Castiel feels stupid for asking such an obvious question to Dean, and his gaze follows where Dean’s feet shift against the floor.

  
Shrugging, Dean turns to exhale out the smoke. His shaking fires bring the white stick back up to his pale, pink lips again. “I can draw you another one,” Cas says timidly, feeling such a mixture of emotions that he isn't quite sure what to do. He stands still, warily moving his gaze up from Dean’s shoes, and back towards his eyes once again.

  
“What?”

  
“A drawing.” Castiel confirms. “I'll draw you another one… but, you have to do something too.” Cas can't believe he's saying this. His mind is yelling at him to stop, telling him to panic. He feels his vision blurring slightly, a dizzy feeling washing over him like an oil spill lapping at the sandy shores.

  
Dean looks confused, Cas can tell. He doesn't speak, just awaits for Castiel to continue explaining. “You have to…” Castiel takes a deep breath, his eyes flitting towards those of green. Dean's eyes look soft, they look understanding. And, it actually makes Cas feel calm. “L – let me help you quit.” He finalises, grasping at one of his planet pin, that's currently attached to his jacket.

  
“Quit?” The Winchester exhales smoke whilst he talks, and Cas lets out a small cough.

  
“Smoking,” he ironically utters, and Dean doesn't answer.

  
Castiel immediately feels overwhelmed with regret. He screws shut his eyes, and awaits for the yelling that's bound to come next… any second now, Dean will tell him how stupid he is, and walk away.

  
“Okay.” Cas’ eyes open just in time to see Dean’s current cigarette hit the floor, and his combat boot satisfyingly squishes it.

  
“Wait, you're serious?!” Castiel’s mouth drops open ever so slightly, full of surprise. He brings himself the courage to lock eye contact with Dean, and it doesn't look one bit like he's faking it.

  
Dean nods, and there's even the risk of a smile forming. “I can try.” He shrugs, his left hand delving deep into his black jeans’ pockets. “For you… and – and Sammy.” He stammers, blinking a few times more than usual.

  
Castiel isn't too sure of what Dean is trying to say, but it isn't until now that he's realised that there's a grin settled over his facial features. “I'm going to go and draw you a picture now!” He beams, unable to contain his excitement.

  
A laugh falls from Dean’s chapped lips, and then his tongue emerges to coat them. “But, I haven't even gotten any patches out yet, or used any smoke free gum stuff.” The Winchester chuckles, enjoying this side of Castiel's presence.

  
“But, I trust you.” Cas’ brow furrows, wondering why Dean may think otherwise of this. He studies the look on the boy’s face, unable to quite pinpoint what it tells him.

  
Dean stops speaking for a few moments, and he looks deep in thought. “Next Saturday, I get the drawing if I use the patches… deal?” His hand extends, and Castiel’s heart skips a beat. He gulps quietly, glancing down at where is hands are resting by his side.

  
He slowly brings his right hand upwards, and lets his fingers brush gently against Dean's. A second before the Winchester is about to grab his hand, Cas notifies that it's his left. “You're right handed,” he blurts out, now realising that for the past five minutes, Dean has been using his left.

  
Dean looks a little sheepish, as he brings his right hand out from behind his back. It's scattered with bloody cuts, that are fresh and look rather painful. Cas’ face contorts into one of sympathise pain, but he stops it when Dean clears his throat. “I punched the tree,” a tiny mumble leaves Dean's mouth, and Castiel frowns.

  
“W – why would you punch a tree?” He asks, his head tilting a little to one side.

  
Dean smiles. “Because I'm a bad-tempered idiot, who probably doesn't deserve to have such a cool tutor.” He's smirking, and Cas is unsure of whether or not this means that Dean is telling him a joke. He doesn't understand the correlation between each thing that the boy has just said, but on the other hand, Dean certainly isn't laughing.

  
“So, next Saturday?” Dean raises his left hand again, and when Cas stays still, he reaches to where Castiel has kind of frozen his hand in mid-air. Dean’s soft touch engulfs Cas’ smaller right hand, and then quickly shakes it. He drops it almost as quick as he'd initiated the contact in the first place, and Cas opens and shuts the fist.

  
He pokes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and then tilts his head upwards. Dean is looking anxious to know whether or not Cas was okay with that sudden contact, remembering the different things that his brother had told him that day, in confidence in the kitchen. “Yes, next Saturday.” Castiel says firmly, not breaking eye contact with those undergrowth eyes.

  
Dean lets out a not very subtle sigh of relief, seeming to confuse poor Cas even more. “I'd better get going, and pester Sam about where he put my patches after I last threw them out.” He scratches at the back of his neck, looking around at his surroundings.

  
Cas nods. “Me too, uh, I’d better go… do homework. And – and drawing,” a small smile appears on his face, as he starts imagining different ideas of what to draw for Dean.

  
“See ya tomorrow, Cas.” Dean says, turning to walk away. He strides off a lot calmer than he had come across as just a few moments ago back at the school, and even begins to hum a tune that Cas doesn't quite recognise… he's never been savvy with music, and things.

  
“Goodbye, Dean.” He says loud enough for Dean to actually hear this time, earning a back to front wave from the boy.

  
Castiel sighs contentedly, and begins to make his own way home. There's a slight skip in his step as he goes, despite his sodden socks inside of his sneakers. He decides that he will call Emmy when he gets home, to apologise for being so blunt today. Maybe things are going to be okay after all.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

**_Next Thursday…_ **

 

  
Dean has attended school everyday so far. He hasn't gotten the patches yet, because apparently Dean’s Dad had thrown them out after he got into an argument with Sam – who'd hidden them in his wardrobe. But, Dean has even talked to Cas in the hallways, despite the subtle glare that Emmy gives him. He said he'd get them as soon as possible, and he didn't seem to be lying.

  
Castiel also apologised to Emmy last week, and confided in her that he's helping Dean to quit smoking – at first she seemed sceptical, but she's trying to act happy about it for her best friend’s sake.

  
But, today when Cas walked all of the hallways, he couldn't find the elder Winchester anywhere. It's now the end of school, and Emmy is walking out of the doorway with Castiel… they're planning to go and relax, and sit with Honey. As they're avoiding puddles along the sidewalk, Novak spots Sam a few steps ahead of them.

  
“Sam… _Sam!_ ” He manages to raise his voice loud enough for him to stop, and turn to see who's trying to catch his attention.

  
Castiel looks at Emmy, who smiles to let him know she's still there. He walks up to Sam, and clears his throat before he speaks. “Where's Dean today?” Cas asks quietly, unable to look up into his eyes at the moment.

  
“Dad got into a huge argument with him this morning… I'd say he'll be home now though, ‘cause Dad’s gone away for work again. You can come by, if you like.” Sam offers kindly, and Cas does a quick body language and facial expression examination to see if he means it.

  
Castiel turns to Emmy. She sighs, but then clearly forces a smile. “You can invite him over to mine,” she says. Castiel feels like she's lying, but he doesn't want to start a questioning session in front of Sam.

  
“Could you tell Dean to meet me by the tree, please?” Cas glances quickly up at Sam’s eyes – they're a much duller green compared to Dean, quite hazel.

  
“Sure!” Sam grins, and then hurries off home to try and cheer his brother up.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_2 hours later._ **

  
Cas is sat cross legged on Emmy’s bed, and she sits opposite. Honey is resting her head against Castiel’s knee, as he pets her. “I don't think Dean is coming,” he mutters, scratching the puppy behind her ears.

  
As if an angel above was listening in, there's a knock at Emmy’s front door. Honey barks, making Cas jump and then laugh because it sounds like a little squeak. “I'll get it,” he says quite confidently, and then picks up Honey.

  
He carefully steps down the carpeted stairs, feeling comfort in the familiar feeling against his toes. Cas’ hand wraps around the door handle, and he gently pulls it open. There, standing on the porch, is Dean. He looks anything but comfortable, as he taps his foot and chews his gum so violently that he looks as if he may break his damn jaw.

  
“Are you alright?” Castiel’s tone is laced full of concern, as he looks the boy up and down.

  
Dean’s eyes snap upwards, causing Cas to flinch and step backwards slightly. “So, I bought the cigarette quitting shit today… I've had three already, but I usually have like five, so I guessed three should be my limit for now?” He says quickly, biting his lip and toying with his shaky fingers.

  
“You smoke more when you've argued with your Dad, right?” Cas makes the assumption before thinking it over about how rude it may come across as.

  
The eldest Winchester laughs out a sigh. “Is it that obvious? I feel like a wreck, I look like a wreck… Emmy probably won't even want me here, I should just go –”

  
“N - no, please stay.” Castiel steps closer to Dean, and sees his eyes of green travel up from the porch, and stare into Cas’ blue.

  
Dean doesn't speak, he just waits for Cas to step aside, and then comes in too. He takes off his combat boots, and shrugs off his faded green jacket. This reveals his bare arms, as he's only wearing a plain black tee. “Look,” he turns, showing off two nicotine patches that are stuck against it.

  
Castiel sees him actually grin, and the smile is apparently contagious. “That's good,” Cas says, feeling calm with Honey in his arms, and the fact that Dean is keeping his promise makes him feel rather pleased with himself.

  
The pair walk upstairs into Emmy’s room. Dean knocks first, because he feels awkward going somewhere that belongs to the girl who sort of despises him. She reassures him that it's okay for him to enter, and they all find a space to sit – Dean chooses a space on the floor.

  
After a while, Honey is comfortable enough to bounce off the bed and explore Dean. She licks his shirt, and settles down next to his legs. “So, you weren't at school today,” Emmy breaks the silence that has loomed in the air for almost an hour now.

  
“No,” Dean keeps his answer simple. He pets Honey, trying to distract himself from the craving to go outside and smoke.

  
“Sam said you argued with your Dad… is everything okay?” Emmy asks, but Cas thinks it's because curiosity caught the cat. He doesn't get that saying, but people always say it.

  
Dean shifts uncomfortably in his carpet seat. “We argued ‘cause he thinks I'm too weak to quit smoking. I'm gonna get back now, thanks for the invite.” He stands shakily to his feet, scratches Honey’s ears one more time, and then hurries downstairs.

  
Castiel feels upset, because just as he got to the top of the stairs, Dean slammed the front door behind him. Every time Cas feels like he's getting somewhat closer to understanding Dean as a person, something like this happens. Emmy tells him it's because Dean doesn't want to be close to anyone, but despite Cas not understanding most things about people… he feels this isn't true.

  
He just hopes that one day he’ll be able to actually prove her wrong.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_Saturday,  
2.30p.m._ **

 

  
Castiel toys with the bumblebee pin that's attached to his navy blue, knitted sweater. He brings his balled up fist towards the wooden door before him, and knocks as confidently as a knock can be. He always feels overwhelmed by a sense of regret the longer he stands on this very porch, but thankfully footsteps can be heard from behind the closed door just moments later.

  
His mind has been swimming all morning, hence the nagging headache that thumps from behind his eyes right now. He realised when he awoke that Dean had never specified exactly where they were going to meet today for the drawing exchange, and it seems like a tiny thing to someone else, but to Cas it's caused him a fair amount of stress, to say the least.

  
Sam answers the door a few seconds later, causing Castiel to snap out of his anxious thoughts that keep coming creeping. “Hey, Cas… uh, do you need something?” The messy haired teen asks, leaning against the doorframe whilst still looking half asleep.

  
“Is Dean in?” Cas gets straight to point.

  
“Uh… is it really important? I think he's still in bed,” the younger brother reveals.

  
Castiel feels a sudden wave of disappointment showering him… did Dean really forget? “Oh. Shall I go then?” Cas says quietly, trying not to get so sad. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

  
But, just as Sam opens his mouth to reply, and as Cas is about to turn and bolt it… “no, wait! Sammy, don't close that freakin’ door or so help me God!” Dean’s footsteps crash against the stairs, as he skips more than one step at a time and almost ends up in a heap at the bottom.

  
Sam rolls his eyes, and then leaves the doorway so that Dean can take his place. “I'm not gonna get close to you… but, did you bring it?” He sounds stuffy, but actually happy for once.

  
“Of course I did.” Cas starts rummaging around in his bag. “Here,” he extends his hand, and holds out the picture for Dean to take.

  
“Can I look at it now?” He asks excitedly, as Cas’ hand drops back to his side again, and reaches up to find a pin.

  
Castiel shrugs. “Uh, I guess…” he trails off, wondering if he’ll be invited in or not. He'd mentally prepared himself for the invitation already, but thinks that he won't.

  
The eldest Winchester breaks into a grin, and unravels the roll of paper. His eyes scan the drawing in front of him – a cartoon like sketch of his face and shoulders, he's looking down and his eyelashes are rather complementary of his cheekbones. Instead of freckles over his face, there's lightly drawn purple and pink galaxies, and finally a halo of little golden stars around his head.

  
“It's – uh – it's alright if you don't like it,” Cas mumbles, watching Dean stare at the paper. He isn't sure if Dean’s reaction means that he likes it or not, until he looks up at Cas with the giddiest smile and there's an obvious blush forming over his cheeks.

  
Dean scratches at the back of his neck, and clears his throat. “I love it. Thank you!” He's still smiling, and Castiel is now feeling very proud of himself.

  
“You're welcome – um, are you okay?” Novak asks, as Dean starts coughing.

  
The Winchester nods, but Cas knows he's lying because his eyes are now watery. He stops coughing eventually, and then sighs. “You'd better go, I don't want you to get sick.” Dean looks saddened by the fact that he's asking Cas to leave, which gives the shy boy a little hope.

  
“Oh, you're sick…” Cas’ brain is processing everything, and now he realises why Sam had told him to go away earlier. “Do you need anything?” He doesn't usually like helping anyone with things like this, but for some reason he really wants to assist Dean.

  
“Nah, I already took so many cold and flu tablets. And, coffee… lots and lots of coffee!” He rocks on his heels, and then actually giggles. Cas finds this super adorable, and stares at the floor so Dean can't see his smile.

  
Looking up again, Castiel studies Dean a little closer. He can tell he's sick, because his hair is a mess (it's barely ever a mess), his nose is tinted red, and he looks quite exhausted despite his caffeine intake. “I hope you get better,” Cas states, looking away incase it looks weird that he's staring again.

  
“Thanks, I'll be at school Monday, ‘cause Dad’s back. See you soon,” he says, and then watches as Castiel goes back down the porch. He stops to wave at Dean, who sends him a sleepy smile, before closing the door behind him.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

**_Wednesday,  
4.10p.m._ **

 

  
Dean was at school on Monday, just like he had said he would be… but, the school nurse sent him home at lunchtime. Cas doesn't know if he went home or not, or whether his Dad was there. He also knows that Dean is finding it very hard to break the habit of having a cigarette on the way to school, hence why the nurse probably assumed he has asthma, or something.

  
But, now it's Wednesday, and the pair are coming to the end of another tutoring session. “Cas,” Dean clears his throat, before continuing. “Do you think I can quit?” He avoids eye contact this time, when Castiel looks up to initiate it for once.

  
“Yes. Look, quitting smoking isn't going to be easy… you're trying,” Cas chews his nail, and studies Dean for a bit. He looks sad, and clearly withdrawn from the current social situation.

  
“Thanks…” he stops talking, and starts coughing. The sound makes Castiel flinch, and Dean notices out of the corner of his eye. “I'm sorry, you know you should just go. I can't even concentrate on this.” He slides the work back to Cas, and the tutor examines the many spelling errors.

  
He sighs quietly, and pokes the tissue box in the middle of the table closer to Dean. “Okay, will you be at –” Cas is cut short by the sound of the front door swinging open and crashing into the wall beside it.

  
Dean’s body language changes so abruptly that it physically shocks Cas. “He's not supposed to be home for another four hours,” the boy opposite mutters, before standing up from his chair.

  
Praying that he won't come into the living room, Dean peeks from behind the living room door. Unfortunately, the man taking his shoes off hears a cough, and follows the source of the sound. “Sounds to me as if you're still smokin’!” The man somewhat bellows, and Dean carries a glare that could do a lot of damage if looks could hurt someone.

  
“But, he's getting better at stopping.” The tiniest, most timid of voices turns the attention of whom Cas assumes to be Dean’s famous excuse for a father, towards him instead.

  
He chuckles one, long scoff like laugh, and then steps closer to the living room table. “You're the tutor.” He comments, and then glances up at the framed photo of Dean’s Mom. “Well, thanks and all… well done for believing in him,” he gestured sideways with his eyes, glancing to Dean.

  
“Cas is just leaving,” a slight hint of defensiveness carries across in his tone, but Cas can't quite pinpoint all of the mixed emotions.

  
He doesn't dare look this authority figure in the eye, and his palms are clamming up every time the echoing voice fills the room. “Goodbye,” Cas gulps, and starts to walk as quick as he can towards the living room door, without actually running.

  
Relief coats him when he makes it to the door, and hurriedly shoves on his shoes in an uncomfortable way. Castiel doesn't see nor hear anyone behind him, so once the front door is safely shut and he's back on the sidewalk again, he can finally focus on calming his breathing. Dean’s father is a very intimidating person, and he certainly does not hope to meet him again.

  
A new selection of worries tiptoe around his mind on the walk home; what if Dean’s dad thought he was rude for not initiating eye contact with him? What if Dean gets told off for it… what if he smokes more again because of this? Castiel takes a moment to recollect himself, because Dean makes him feel a lot of worry. Emmy can make Cas feel like this too, but it's not quite the same and it's extremely bothering to Mr. Novak, and he just wants to yell and yell about it right here in the middle of the rain dampened sidewalk.

  
So, that's what he does. He shouts about his feelings, he shouts about wanting Dean to be happy. He tells about how he feels trapped sometimes, wanting to branch out and act as if he fits in at school, have a proper conversation with Dean without one or the other of them suffocating from the silence that always draws in. Castiel wants to relax with Dean, he wants it to be casual and normal… maybe, he wants Dean.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_The next day.  
11.03a.m._ **

 

  
Cas is already on his way home from school. The skies above him clearly are not on his side today, because it's raining again and he was so late for school this morning that he didn't have time to grab anything warmer than his denim jacket. Shivers zoom up and down his spine, as he clutches onto the darkening material that's being splattered with droplets of rain with every step that he takes along the puddle aligned sidewalk.

  
It was the nurse who'd send him home – he awoke this morning with a horrible headache and sore throat, and all of this has only gotten worse as the day has gone on, and after he fell asleep halfway through math class, his teacher sent him to go and get checked over. Turns out he has a fever too, and has been advised to get an appointment at the doctors as soon as he possibly can.

  
When his trembling fingertips squeeze around his house key, Cas is wracked with yet another painful cough. He barely ever gets sick, and every single fibre of his body hates the whole endurance of the times when he does. Emmy won't know he's been sent home yet, so he’ll have to let her know later. He mentally notes this all down as his shaking hands struggle at unlocking the door, and then he finally stumbles inside and leans against the heavy panels of wood in order to shut it with enough force that it will stay that way.

  
His glasses are all steamy, and his clothes wet through. Castiel kicks off his shoes in quite an angry manner, not feeling love to the world today. He flicks on the hot water, and veers upstairs on a mission to shower, get changed, and then sleep the damn day away.

  
~*~*~*~

  
**_1.30p.m_ **

 

  
Castiel awakens to the noise of his phone vibrating across his bedside table, even though he didn't realise he had been asleep in the first place. His hair is still damp from his shower, and he sits up with aches and shivers surrounding his bones.

  
“Hello?” Cas’ voice crackles into the phone.

  
“Cas? Oh god, you sound awful. Do you want me to come over?” It's Emmy.

  
After promptly clearing his throat in a very bad attempt to sound a little better, Cas places the phone back to his ear and mouth once again. “No, no. I'm fine,” he lies.

  
He's never been a good liar, and Emmy can read him like a book most of the time anyway. “Listen, I'll just skip the rest of math. I'm gonna come over,” the girl sounds set on this, but Castiel isn't having it.

  
“Emmy, please just go to class. I'll be alright,” he counteracts. Her sigh fills his slightly blocked eardrum, before she regretfully agrees.

  
And, now Castiel is all alone again. He tosses his phone back onto his bed, and peels his glasses off of his face… he really needs to stop falling asleep with them on. Reaching for a tissue from his starry painted tissue box, Cas scrunches it up and sighs heavily through his mouth. This all sucks, and he wants to go back to sleep. He hates feeling sick, and doesn't want to be around anyone at the best of times so right now he’s going to stay in his room and doodle… maybe even draw something else for Dean..

  
…. Hoping that it'll make him feel a little bit better.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

 _**Saturday afternoon.** _  
_**3.30p.m.** _

 

  
Cas pulls his coat tighter around his body, clutching the small paper bag in his other hand. His feet splash in the puddles that align the pavement, and the droplets of water that are slowly falling from the sky cause his already damp hair to stick against his forehead.

 

  
He turns the corner to his block, feeling more out of breath than usual. All he wants is to curl up under his duvet, and sleep for fifteen more hours. But, it doesn't seem like that will happen today.

 

  
As his house comes into view, he squints through his steamed up glasses… There's someone sat on the porch? Giving the lenses a quick clean with his sleeve, he notices a small cloud of smoke that engulfs the stranger.

 

  
“Dean?” Cas feels the strain in his throat as he attempts at a yell, but Dean's head stays down.

 

  
Castiel starts to lightly jog up to his porch, where Dean is sitting on the steps. There's a cigarette tucked tightly in between his thumb and index finger, and he's taking long and slow drags from the stick. He doesn't even realise that Cas is standing above him, until the smoke causes him to cough.

 

  
The immediate reaction to hearing a noise means that Dean looks upwards, and Castiel notices the trails of water that run down his face, from his eyes and downwards past his nose. “What's wrong?” He asks, as Dean looks down again.

 

  
He tries to speak, but a cross between a hiccup and a sob escapes him instead. Cas sits down beside him, and moves a little bit closer. “Dean?” He whispers, feeling the sadness well up inside of him, just from listening to Dean quietly sniffle as his shoulders shake.

 

  
“My dad hates me for who I am,” the Winchester manages to choke out, and then he shakily puts his cigarette between his lips again.

 

  
Castiel doesn't understand how his own father could hate him, but when he is about to ask, his mouth becomes filled up with smoke instead. Shielding his face with the sleeve of his jacket, he starts to cough.

 

  
Dean looks up in concern, the tears in his eyes still glistening. A few stray droplets fall and drop onto his old pair of jeans, and then he looks at Cas. “You sound terrible…” He trails off, looking down at his cigarette.

 

  
_“Jesus Christ,”_ Dean mutters angrily to himself, standing up and immediately throwing the stupid thing to the ground. He stamps it out on the path, and then picks it up so he isn't littering.

 

  
He shoves the sodden mess into his pocket, and then goes over to Cas again. “Sorry,” he apologises.

 

  
Cas takes in a gulp of air. “Why does your dad hate you?” He questions, looking up at the red faced Winchester who's now standing above him.

 

His face is flushed, like he's been having a yelling match with someone. And, his eyes are red from the tears. Castiel has never seen Dean like this, and he really doesn't like it. He observes as Dean bites down on his bottom lip so hard that it almost draws blood, and then wipes aggressively at his eyes.

 

  
“Because, I like a guy.” He blurts out, and starts to bite his nails.

  
“What's wrong with that?” Cas asks so innocently, trying his hardest to study Dean's body language to try and dig deeper into why he's feeling so sad.

 

  
A hollow laugh leaves Dean's body. “Because, it's wrong, it's stupid, and it's bad!” His voice cracks slightly at the end of his sentence, and Cas can only assume that he's mocking his father – because of the mannerisms and tone that he's using.

 

  
“It's not bad,” Cas starts to tear up, Dean's words unintentionally getting to him.

 

  
They both fall silent. Neither knowing what to say. Castiel can sense that Dean needs calming down, and that he needs some reassurance. He's bad at this, but he's willing to try.

 

  
“Do you want to come inside?” He asks, standing up and walking towards the door before he awaits an answer.

 

  
After unlocking it, he holds it open for Dean to walk past him. He looks so vulnerable as he enters the hallway, and takes off his shoes like he knows to do now. “Cas,” he rubs at his eyes, because the tears don't stop falling.

 

  
“It's okay, Dean.” He closes the door, remembering how other people calm him down when he's upset or anxious about something. “It'll be alright,” he feels Dean's arm brush up against him, which indicates that they're close.

 

  
When he turns back to his right again, he sees that Dean is hiding his face in his hands. He isn't one to reveal a lot of emotion to others, and Cas knows this. Without thinking it through, he drops the paper bag and front door keys to the floor, and wraps Dean in a hug.

 

  
At first, Dean is surprised more than anything. But, then he fully appreciates the gesture by winding his own arms around Cas, and letting his head fall onto his shoulder. The muffled sobs shake against Castiel’s body, and he stands there, rubbing Dean's back. Usually, he'd avoid this kind of contact all together, but Dean needs someone. And, he wants to be there for him.

 

  
“Don't worry,” he mutters, feeling his cheek touch the tousles of hair upon Dean's head. He closes his eyes, and squeezes Dean a little harder.

 

  
Eventually, the feeling of Dean squirming in his arms means that he's ready to exit the hug. They both pull away at the same time, and then divert their eyes elsewhere around the room. “Sorry,” Dean hiccups mid-sob again, managing to laugh at the situation.

 

  
He takes off his jacket, and wipes his face with the material. A long sigh falls from his mouth, as he continues to hiccup and sniffle every once in a while.

 

  
“It's okay...” Cas replies quietly, unsure of what to say or do next. “Uh, I'll get you a tissue.” He finally decides on saying, and then heads off in the direction of the downstairs bathroom.

 

  
Castiel returns back to Dean, and hands him some. “Thanks,” he watches Dean wipe his eyes, and then put the tissue in the pocket of his jeans.

 

  
“Do you wanna take a nap? It's how I always feel after getting really sad,” Cas offers, and starts making his way towards the stairs.

 

  
He stops halfway up, when he can't hear footsteps following behind him. Turning around, he sees that Dean hasn't yet moved. “I – I should go,” Castiel frowns, and hurries back downstairs again.

 

  
“Can you even go back home?” Cas is confused – the way Dean was talking, it seems as if his dad may have kicked him out of the house. And, now he wants to leave all of a sudden.

 

  
Shaking his head, Dean swallows another sob. “I don't want to bother you, you're not well.” He rubs his eyes, feeling an overwhelming sensation of tiredness.

 

  
“I'm alright – the doctor said it's only a chest infection,” Cas explains. “You can sleep on my sofa if you want, my parents won't be back for another week.”

 

Somehow, the Winchester breaks into a smile. “Really?” He asks, looking at Cas’ face.

  
Castiel brings himself to look upwards too, already knowing that their eyes will meet. “I want you to feel safe… There's nothing worse than being all alone, at a time like this.” He feels like he's said too much already, but Dean doesn't reply. Instead, he smiles with so much gratitude filled inside the expression, that even Cas feels the corners of his mouth threatening to move too.

 

  
“Thank you.” Dean’s voice is tiny, a contradiction to how Cas is used to seeing him.

  
“I'll get you a change of clothes, and a blanket.” Castiel starts making his way upstairs again, to choose the most baggy pair of pyjamas that he owns, and one of the fluffy throw blankets that he has under his bed, for when it gets really cold at night.

 

  
Dean takes a seat on the bottom stair, awaiting Cas’ return. He doesn't feel like he deserves any of this – the way his friends have treated the poor guy in the past, and how Dean barely did anything to stop it. All he's ever wanted to do is to fit in, when really he should've stuck to his heart. How his mom tried to raise him.

 

  
The sound of thudding footsteps above him cause him to flinch in his fragile state. He stands up, and turns around to see Cas’ face hidden by a bunch of different materials. “Here – you go,” he mutters between coughs.

 

  
Dean takes the bundle from his arms, making sure to check that he's okay. “Thank you, for this.” He finds his way into the lounge, with Cas following shortly behind.

 

  
“You can stay the night, um, if you like…” Novak trails off, feeling his cheeks becoming hotter and hotter by the second at the thought.

 

  
Dean doesn't want to intrude, but he knows that if he shows his face back home… Well. “Are you sure?” His teeth press down against his lower lip, and he slowly brings his eyes of green to meet with Cas’ eyes of blue.

 

  
“I'm sure.” He doesn't even hesitate this time, and a tiny smile tugs at the corners of Castiel’s lips.

 

  
For a few moments, Dean finds it calming to look into the ocean orbs. But, as usual their eye contact is broken first by Cas. Then again, it's still a major development to how they were three months ago. Dean feels like he's finally managing to break down a few of Castiel Novak’s walls, and maybe even a few of his own are slowly crumbling too when he's around the guy.

 

  
Dean sits down on the sofa, and then looks at the clothes that Cas has given him. “I'll just get changed,” Dean tells Castiel, who takes the message and leaves the room.

 

He waits patiently outside, tilting backwards on his heels. He decides to go and pull on his navy hoodie, and change into sweatpants instead of jeans. He leaves his NASA t-shirt on underneath, and then comes back downstairs to see that the living room door is ajar again.

 

Upon entering, he sees Dean all snuggled up in the blanket he was given. “It's really comfy,” he tells him with a smile, looking up at Cas with sleepy eyes.

 

  
“Would you like anything to eat?” Castiel asks, knowing that Dean should definitely eat something before falling asleep.

 

  
The Winchester shakes his head, but Cas is already making his way into the kitchen. “Do you like soup? It's what I was planning on having for dinner,” he calls to Dean, but his voice fizzles out by the time he reaches the end of his sentence.

 

  
“How about,” Dean suddenly appears behind him, causing Cas to almost drop his saucepan. “I make soup, for you.” His hand reaches upwards, and takes the pan out of Cas’.

 

  
Castiel’s brow furrows, but he lets Dean take over. “But, you're upset,” Cas squints his eyes in confusion, and uses the back of his hand to bump his glasses up his nose.

 

  
“You're sick,” Dean bluntly retaliates.

 

  
“But –”

 

  
“No ‘buts.’ Now, you go watch TV, or whatever.” Dean switches the oven on. “I'll be there in a little while.” Cas huffs, and folds his arms across his chest in defeat.

 

  
His socks slide along the tiled flooring, as he leaves the kitchen and finds his way back into the lounge. The comforting feeling of the soft fabric from his blanket engulfs his body, as he takes a seat on the sofa. He's a little confused as to why Dean wants to care for him, because after all, they're still pretty much strangers to each other.

 

  
He feels his eyelids growing heavy, so he quickly grabs the TV remote in an attempt to distract himself from falling into a dreamland. Unfortunately, no matter how interesting the random crime drama that he found may be, the wave of drowsiness is stronger.

 

  
When Dean comes in carrying two hot bowls of tomato soup, he's greeted by a snoring Castiel, who's wrapped himself up inside a tiny blanket burrito. His green eyes roll, as he tiptoes over and gently sits on the arm. “You can microwave yours later,” he whispers, before spooning some of the hot liquid into his mouth.

 

  
~*~*~*~

 

  
When Castiel wakes up, the room has turned dark and there's an aching pain in his throat. He looks around, suddenly remembering that he'd invited Dean to stay over. “Dean?” An attempt to call out his name fails miserably, as he coughs instead.

 

  
Clearly no sign of him, Cas stands up from the sofa. As he looks down to where he was previously lying, he notices a small piece of paper resting on the arm of the sofa. He picks it up, and pulls his glasses that became indented in his face during his nap, a little further back.

 

  
**_‘To Cas, thanks for letting me stay over. I don't know when you're gonna wake up, but Sam just called me (it's 7.30) and said dad has gone out, and won't be back for a few days at the most. I know you're supposed to tutor me in four days, but get some rest and I'll see you at school whenever you're back. – Dean :) p.s I left your soup by the microwave!’_ **

 

  
He finds a smile spreading over his slightly pale complexion, and he carefully folds the note in half and puts it in the pocket of his sweatpants. Castiel walks over to the light switch, and turns it on in order to read the living room clock – 11.23p.m.

 

  
Cas groans, and then suddenly realises how hungry he is. His fingers brush over the planet themed pins that are pinned to his hoodie, as he walks out of the living room and into the kitchen.

 

  
He heats up his soup, staring into space as his mind wanders elsewhere. The image of Dean's distraught face, as he sits upon Castiel’s porch, comes to mind first. He wonders how Dean’s father could make him feel that way, like he's unwanted. Cas wants to show Dean that he is wanted, but he doesn't exactly know how.

 

  
He’ll have to talk to Emmy tomorrow.

 

  
~*~*~*~

 

**_Sunday afternoon.  
4.13p.m._ **

 

 

  
“Dean came to my house last night…” Cas puts another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “He was really upset,” he carries on, as Emmy listens intently.

 

  
“What about?” Emmy dips her spoon into the tub of ice cream that she's currently eating, and tilts her head to the side.

 

  
Castiel pauses for a moment. “His dad heard him talking about the fact that… He, uh – you won't tell anyone, right?” He mumbles, feeling awkward about telling Emmy something that Dean most likely wants to be kept private.

 

  
Emmy shakes her head, still staring at him with deep concentration. “His dad found out that he likes someone… A guy,” Cas says, not looking up from his ice cream tub.

 

  
The blonde’s eyes widen, and she suddenly clutches her head in pain. “Brain freeze,” she says through gritted teeth. Taking a few moments to process Castiel’s information, she then looks up at him. “Cas, do you know who he likes?” She asks.

 

  
Castiel shakes his head, he hadn't wanted to ask. “Well, I mean… Have you ever thought, that maybe it's you?” She asks.

 

  
Cas chokes on his mouthful of ice cream, being sent into a fit of coughs. “What?!” He splutters, reaching for a water bottle to try and calm his throat.

 

  
“I mean… He came to your house, out of all people’s. He definitely likes you, one way or another.” Emmy puts the lid onto her now empty tub of ice cream, and looks Cas in the eye. “Do you like him too?” She asks, and Castiel begins to blush furiously.

 

  
He sits still for a few moments, and then gradually moves his head upwards. His eyes latch eye contact with Emmy’s, from behind his glasses, and he slowly nods.

 

  
His blonde haired friend beams with happiness. “Tell him!” She urges, but Castiel feels anxiety knocking at his door.

 

  
“No,” he brushes it off like it’s nothing.

 

  
“Why not?” Emmy doesn't drop the subject quite as quickly as he wishes she would.

 

  
“Because… ” Cas pauses, biting down on his bottom lip. “I'm me,” he whispers.

 

  
At first, Castiel doesn't look at Emmy. But, then she folds her arms and he looks up to see the look of anger on her face. “Don't ever say that!” She snaps, looking straight at him.

 

  
Cas is taken aback by her tone, but he doesn't speak. “Just because your mind works a little bit differently to mine, or just because you're shy, or because you have other interests than stereotypical teenagers – that doesn't mean you don't deserve love! So, don't you ever say that again.” Emmy brushes some hair out of her eyes, and blinks away a few secret tears.

 

  
“Are you… Are you mad?” He questions, fearing to look up at her face again.

 

  
Emmy sighs, as Cas reaches over and puts his ice cream pot onto his bedside table, taking the half finished tube of cough drops instead. “I'm more frustrated,” she begins, “you put yourself down a lot, and it has to stop.”

 

  
Castiel places the bright red candy directly on the centre of his tongue, and then closes his mouth around it. “Do you really think that Dean might like me?” He asks, whilst swirling the hard piece of candy around in his mouth, so that it makes a satisfying clacking noise against his teeth.

 

  
Emmy nods. “I'm serious,” he can tell by the look on her face.

 

  
“I might ask him soon,” his voice grows quieter with every word. “Can I have a hug?” Cas suddenly asks, looking up at Emmy with tearful eyes.

 

  
She half-smiles at him, and then opens her arms. Castiel thankfully edges forwards, and ends up with his head resting against her legs. That's how he falls asleep, as she strokes his hair and carefully removes his glasses.

 

  
~*~*~*~

 

  
_**Tuesday morning.** _

 

 

  
Castiel feels much better today, as he stands by the tree that he usually meets Emmy by. She's usually early, but it's three minutes until the time when she really should be here, and Cas sees no sign of the bouncy blonde bounding across the field to greet him.

 

 

He shivers, despite wearing his denim jacket (it has fluffy insides.) “Are you cold?” A voice makes Castiel jump so badly, that he loses his footing and stumbles into a puddle.

 

  
His body swivels to see Dean, who has a look of surprise on his face that he seemed to have scared poor Cas so badly. “Oh, um… hello, Dean.” Cas half-smiles, too tired to overthink how to react.

 

  
The boy smiles wider in response. “I was thinking over the weekend… and, I think I got you sick. I'm sorry about that, and also thanks for, y’know.” Dean goes shy all of a sudden, and looks down at the watery ground underneath them.

 

  
Castiel is unsure of how to take this. But, it's probably true – Dean most likely did get him sick. “Oh, that's alright,” he answers for both the apology and he thanks all in one.

 

  
“Are you feeling better?” Dean continues the conversation, which he doesn't usually do. He'd probably be off right now if Emmy was here, but Cas isn't complaining that he has company. Which is all new to him, because he used to flinch at the sight of the jock, Dean Winchester. Now he feels quite calm nearby him… and, he's not really sure if this scares him, or gives him a newfound sense of relief.

 

  
Cas decides to nod, because he does this a lot with Emmy – she does it with him too, because it's what people do to stop others worrying about them… apparently. Dean raises an eyebrow, truly wondering if Cas can actually lie or not. He watches Cas almost lose his glasses from a sneeze, and then guilt settles in as Novak turns back towards him, looking like he needs a hug and a well deserved nap.

 

  
“You sure about that?” Dean tries to joke, but Cas doesn't note the funny side.

 

  
Nodding, Castiel trails his eyes up into Dean’s. They're traced with worry and concern, as they flicker over Cas’ face and his actions as he scratches his nose. “Dean, I really am alright, you know. Barely even sick anymore,” he is still latching eye contact, and Dean won't look away either.

 

  
“Good…” the Winchester mumbles, so distracted from new shades of blue he's finding that he doesn't register that there's someone new standing right beside them both.

 

  
Emmy clears her throat as loudly as she can, causing poor Cas to jump again and embarrassingly trip over his untied shoelace and bump right into Dean’s chest. Dean catches him with perfect precision, and helps him back to his feet again. Whilst Castiel turns a furious shade of red, Dean finds himself holding on for just one second longer than he should do.

 

  
“I – I should go,” the Winchester instinctively feels around in his back pocket for a cigarette, but he catches Cas’ eye and quickly stops himself. “See you later.” He nods once towards him, but Castiel is now silently yelling at his shoelace for making his anxiety go so far through the roof that it probably touches the stars.

 

  
Cas and Emmy walk to school together, a quiet atmosphere engulfing the both of them. “Did you ask him –”

 

  
“No,” Castiel abruptly cuts her off. His day has been shaken up enough already without Emmy pestering him about Dean.

 

  
Emmy can see that he'd agitated, so she just leaves it alone. The pair both separate when they arrive at school, because they each have different lessons and the bell is about to ring.

 

_**Lunchtime.** _

 

 

Castiel has trouble negotiating himself through the crowded hallways without Emmy by his side. She's usually waiting for him outside of her classroom, but for some reason today she isn't. He had already waited ten minutes, and can't really prolong the wait any longer.

 

 As he turns the corner towards the exit where they usually go and sit in the empty classroom that belongs to his head off house, Cas is greeted with a block of students stopping him from passing. They're all chanting something, and it's so loud that Castiel feels the need to plug his ears. As he stands on his tip-toes and listens a little better, he realises that there's a fight going on. There's a selection of jocks slap bang in the middle of the crowd, and they seem to be having a show down with one of the more cocky younger students.

 

Knowing that he can't get through them and risk drawing attention to himself, Cas quickly spins on his heels to leave. Unfortunately, without Emmy there to remind him 'eyes up, Novak,' Castiel bumps straight into the person behind him. He's about to apologise when the boy shoves him to the side, and he crashes into the wall. ”Watch where you're going!“ the student yells behind him, before weaving through to get a closer look at the mid-hallway brawl.

 

Castiel grips the pin on his jacket so tightly that it falls off the material and clashes against the floor. He attempts to lean down and pick it up, but a sudden gaggle of school girls shuffle past him, and almost knock him to the floor. His mind turns to flashbacks of the last time he was in the middle of a crowd like this... Dean's birthday party. Emotion after emotion begins to pile on top of the other, as Cas forces himself to walk away from the pin. His throat is beginning to tighten, and his eyes sting from behind his now broken glasses. Not again... not here. Not now.

 

 He somehow manages to direct himself to the nearest exit, and shoves it open with as much strength as he carries. The crisp air is like a punch in the face, as he gasps to try and take it all in at once. The sounds around him are beginning to all fold into one, his surroundings start to spin, and there's a growing feeling of nausea is swirling around inside of his stomach.

 

 ”Cas!“ at first he doesn't register that anyone is even calling his name. He's just frozen to the spot, blanking out the world in a failed attempt to try and regain control of his body.

 

”Castiel!“ the voice rings in his ears.

 

Someone's hand grips him tightly on the shoulder, and a face appears within close proximity to his own. "It's me, Dean. C'mon, I got you." Cas knows he's being spoken too, but he can't divert his eyes away from the faded concrete below.

 

Another reminder of the party begins to make him want to close his eyes, when Dean starts moving him although his feet should be too numb to walk. The two pairs of feet don't stop for what seems like hours in Cas’ mind, when in reality it's probably only five minutes. He barely even realises they've come to a halt, until Dean sits them down on a bench, and let's Cas sink to the floor. His arms wrap around him from behind, and he gently sways them from side to side.

 

   
“I got you, okay? I got you, Cas.” Dean whispers over and over again, as Castiel screws his eyes tight shut and tries to regain proper control over the current situation he's in.

 

   
Small droplets of tears wind their way through his eyelashes, and drop down onto his splayed out legs. Dean’s breath is warm against his neck, as he nuzzles his face into Cas’ hair and keeps on mumbling words of reassurance beside his ear.

 

   
The sudden and shrill ring of the school bell makes both of them jump, as they still stay sat on the bench. “Cas, can I take you home?” Dean whispers, and that's when Castiel realises that Dean is holding both of his hands, and rubbing his thumb over the top of them.

 

  
He starts coming back into the room, his breathing steadying, and heartbeat slowing back down to normal. Cas opens his eyes, and things aren't spinning so much anymore. His surroundings flood back to him, and he realises he's in the boy's locker room. “T –take me home, Dean.” He stammers back, and that's all Dean has to hear.

 

  
His hands hook underneath Castiel’s arms, so that he can pull him up from the floor. They have to be sneaky about leaving, because there's usually a few teachers around looking for students who are skipping class. Luckily, Dean gets them to the back of the bleachers with no obstacles along the way.

 

They walk in silence for quite a while, the sound of Cas' quick breathing the only thing that stops the air from being fully quiet. When they reach the tree, he stops for a moment. Looking over at Dean, he's now fully aware of his surroundings enough to see that Dean's hands are shaking. 

 

“It's, uh – I'd probably smoke right now.” The Winchester mumbles, delving his hands into his pockets for a compromise.

 

Castiel lets out a sigh, and it frosts in the air like a steam cloud. ”I stressed you out?” He speaks in a hushed tone, not feeling like talking all together really. 

 

“It's not your fault! Don't worry,” Dean quickly adds, not wanting Cas to feel bad. It wasn't technically his fault – at least, not intentionally.

 

“You can smoke if you like,” Castiel replies.

 

Dean chuckles, but Cas doesn't see why this may come across as being humorous to him. “The only thing I have on me right now is the gum. I left my bag in the library... went to check out a book on quitting smoking, and then I realised Emmy wouldn't be there to meet you for lunch, so I went to find you and was planning to bring you back to check it out with me.” He explains, and Cas now feels even worse.

 

“You did?” He highers his head, watery blue eyes seeking out Dean's.

 

He nods.”Yeah. Emmy went home sick during our math lesson, and I didn't know if you knew or not.”

 

“I didn't... thank you, for thinking of me,” Cas looks at the floor again.

 

“C'mon, let's get you home.”

 

~*~*~*~

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

~*~*~*~

 

Castiel unlocks his front door, and the pair of them walk inside. After taking off his shoes, he's slightly unsure of what to do next. His mind is telling him to go and nap, but he doesn't want to awkwardly abandon his guest. But, as if Dean can read minds, he suggests it a few moments later.

 

“I can wait down here, or just go. If you like,” he continues.

 

“Could you stay? I mean, if Emmy was here she'd usually come and talk to me until I fall asleep… is that weird?” Castiel remembers that Dean is nowhere near as used to his ways as Emmy is, so he quickly asks that last minute question.

 

“No, of course I'll stay!” Dean feels as if he may have answered that too quickly, but Cas is already walking up the stairs, so he guesses he’ll follow.

 

He lets Novak climb onto his bed first, and then lie down on the pillow. “Your glasses are a little broken,” Dean points out.

 

Cas nods. “There's more in the drawers over there – second one down.” He points in the general direction, and the Winchester heads straight over.

 

He scours through the different selections of frames, and then his fingertips touch a pair that he likes. “I like these,” Dean comments happily, taking out the vintage looking circle framed pair, that are a little wider than Harry Potter style glasses.

 

“Okay.” A tiny smile appears on Castiel’s face.

 

Shutting the drawer, Dean keeps a gentle hold on the eyewear. He gets onto Cas’ bed, and carefully crawls closer to his face. His touch is fragile when he takes the broken pair from the blue eyed boy’s face, and it's the same when he replaces them with the newer pair.

 

“They complement your eyes,” Cas is sure that Dean just winked, but he moves away too quickly for him to contemplate it for long enough.

 

Thoughts from his and Emmy’s icecream eating chat the other day start flooding back, and butterflies start to tickle inside of his tummy. Castiel closes his eyes, and wishes for courage. “Dean?” He says, eyes still closed.

 

Dean leans up against the wall, so that his feet just about hang over the edge of Castiel's bed. “Yeah?” He replies, digging into his back pocket for some nicotine gum.

 

He places it in between his teeth, squishing it whilst he waits for a Cas to answer him. It takes a few minutes, but he lets him take his time. “Can I ask you something very bluntly, and hope that I don't embarrass myself?” Castiel keeps his eyes shut tight, and tries to block out what could happen.

 

For a moment, Dean is confused. He studies Cas’ behaviour, and can tell that this seems to be important. “Sure…” he's unsure of what Novak may say, but he'll hear him out.

 

Sighing heavily, Cas prepares himself for more awkward rejection. “Well, it’s more of a statement than a question, but… how would you, um.. what would – if I told you – like, I kind of might,” he can't quite spit it out, and Dean isn't the most patient of souls.

 

“What?” He stares in utter confusion.

 

Cas opens his eyes, accidentally causing eye contact. “I like you.” He blurts out all in one breath, and now he's staring and Dean’s mouth is twitching into a smirk and Castiel has no fucking idea what that's supposed to mean.

 

“I'd feel rather flattered…” Castiel feels so much anxiety about what Dean's preparing to say next, that he wants to bury himself under the duvet and forget he actually just splurted that into the open and it wasn't just in his head this time. “You know that guy I said I liked?” Finally, he speaks.

 

Novak nods, moving his eyes to a familiar and calming galaxy poster on his wall. His mind is beginning to travel elsewhere – he can't help it, it just happens in high anxiety situations like this – “that may or may not have been you.” Cas is back in the room quicker than you can usually try to regain his attention. He chokes on what seems to simply be air for a moment, and then he forces himself to look Dean in the eye again.

 

He looks serious. This isn't a joke. “You like me back?” His voice cracks, but he didn't mean it to. Small droplets form in the corners of his eye, but he uses the cuff of his denim jacket to hurriedly dispose of them before Dean can notice. Dean does notice, but he doesn't say anything. He just smiles.

 

“You sound shocked,” he comments back, finding Castiel’s rapidly reddening face to be a rather adorable sight to see.

 

Castiel looks down at his trembling hands. “I am,” he admits. “What does this mean?” His confusion gets the best of him, and he talks without really thinking it through.

 

“Well, uh…” it's Dean's turn to blush now, and the pink covers over his little freckles. “Can I make you a deal?” He tries to catch eye contact again, by dipping down his head in search of those ocean eyes once more.

 

Cas doesn't catch on, but he nods. “If you try and believe in yourself a little bit more, and know that you're a great person… I'll be your boyfriend.” Castiel snaps his head up so hard at the sound of the word, that he hears a tiny crack. Boyfriend. He'd actually have a boyfriend, and it'd be Dean freakin’ Winchester.

 

“I've never had a boyfriend before,” he goes all bashful and shy, and starts smiling like an idiot.

 

“I take it that's a yes, then?” Dean laughs out loud, and it's a genuine sound of pure happiness. Cas likes the sound, it's truly calming and washes over you like your favourite song on a rainy day.

 

He continues to stare at Dean’s face, in awe of the beauty and the excitement of the moment too much to answer. “S – sorry, yes!” Cas giggles, and Dean’s smile stretches all the way across to his ears.

 

Without thinking twice, the Winchester jumps forwards and lifts Castiel up into a hug. Cas wraps his own arms around Dean at once this time, and he nuzzles his head into his shoulder. He can smell cologne, mint, and a tiny hint of smoke… but, it all feels like home now. He feels safe, and warm. He actually belongs.

 

After a few moments, Castiel leaves the embrace first. He grows less confident, and Dean can tell that something's wrong. “Cas?” He asks, wondering what could be the matter.

 

“Before we become boyfriends, I – I need to tell you something.” Castiel toys with his hands, staring down at his space themed duvet cover.

 

Dean nods. Castiel takes a deep breath. “I'm on the autistic spectrum, and I have aspergers. So, I understand if you don't wanna be with me anymore.” He continues to avoid eye contact, but peeks upwards when Dean doesn't say a thing.

 

He blinks. “Cas, that doesn't change my opinion on you… you do know that, right?”

 

“Really? I mean, most people might –”

 

“Yes, really.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Sam actually spoke to me about it all. He guessed you might, and I –”

 

“Is it really that obvious?” Cas begins to doubt himself, about how he's tried to hard to hide it after all these years.

 

Dean’s eyes widen. “No, I mean that he has a best friend, who has a brother with autism. You just reminded him kinda of him… I don't mean that in a bad way, uh…” he starts to trail off, feeling as if he's just digging himself a deeper hole.

 

“It's okay,” Castiel mumbles. “I get what you mean… I think.” He frowns, and Dean chuckles.

 

“Do you want to nap now?” He asks, and Cas feels a sense of relief wash over him.

 

He goes to lie down on his pillow, but Dean clears his throat. “Wrong way,” his green eyes glitter, as he gestures down to his lap with a cute, over dramatised smile.

 

Castiel blushes, and watches as Dean moves his legs so that there's room for Cas to lie down. He shuffles forwards, and slightly awkwardly lies down against Dean’s knee. “Hey, Cas?” He whispers, brushing his fingertips against Castiel’s messy hair.

 

“Hmm?” The sleepy boy murmurs, somehow feeling comfortable in this position.

 

“You're still wearing your glasses,” Dean giggles. He carefully removes them from Cas’ face, who then closes his eyes and waits for Dean to continue playing with his hair again.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**_3.20p.m._ **

 

  
Cas has been asleep for almost a whole hour now. He fell asleep with his head in Dean’s lap, feeling him card his hand through his hair. It was extremely relaxing, and poor Castiel was so overwhelmed by everything that had happened, he fell asleep within five minutes. Dean waits for him to awaken, and stays quiet so that he doesn't wake him up.

 

Eventually, Castiel stirs. He groggily opens his eyes, being greeted with a blurred image of Dean sitting above him. “Morning, sunshine,” a grin spreads across Dean’s face.

 

He reaches out for Castiel’s glasses, and hands them back to him. Cas sits up, and glances at Dean’s face. Everything that had happened before he fell asleep comes flooding back to him, and now he's smiling too. “Did I dream that?” He whispers, more to himself than anyone else.

 

“What, that I'm your boyfriend?” Cas looks up to see the playful smirk dancing over Dean’s expression.

 

He blushes, looking down at his hands. “Yeah,” his voice is reduced to a timid whisper.

 

“Nope, it was definitely real.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

**_Wednesday,  
_ **

**_5.34p.m._ **

 

Dean casually glances upwards at the clock, and stretches himself out on the sofa. His sense of calmness is soon diminished, when he remembers that he should be at his Dad's shop, helping out with fixing the cars for a few hours. His eyes widen, and he scrambles to his feet.

 

“Shit... Cas, I gotta go. I was supposed to be helping my Dad with something. I promise I'll meet you under the tree tomorrow, okay?” He tugs on his jacket at lightening speed, and rushes his words so they almost blend into one big one.

 

Castiel feels overwhelmed by such a sudden surge of news, but he has to agree because Dean is now sprinting towards the door. He quickly decides to follow him, shoving off the blankets and jogging out to where the poor guy is stuffing his feet into his combat boots. He doesn't even lace them up, he just grabs the door handle and steps one foot out the door.

 

“Dean, wai–” Cas is unable to finish what he's about to say, because Dean swoops round, lowers his face and grabs Castiel's hip bones... pressing his lips against the others in front of him.

 

Practically melting into Dean's tender but rough and sudden touch, Cas almost toppled over from the shock of it all. But, unfortunately it all finishes as quick as the little whirlwind had started, and the Winchester hesitantly exits the gesture. Castiel's eyes are still wider than the moon, as he takes in the spatterings of freckles and Dean's dirty blonde lashes that tickle his cheekbones right before he reopens his eyes.

 

“I just kissed you. Oh, god... I just kissed you.” He begins rambling, the realisation of his spur of the moment action starting to settle in.

 

Cas feels dizzy and the adrenaline is almost urging him to pull Dean back, and latch their lips together once more. “Y - you have to go, remember?” Is all his stupid brain and stupid mouth manage to push out, and it totally comes out really wrong, but he didn't mean it in a rude way.

 

A frown settles over his brow, but Dean nods. ”I'll see you!” He yells, bounding down the steps of the porch, a grin setting against his face now that Cas can't see him. Hurrying off down the street, he spins around to wave again... then, he's out of sight.

 

By the time he actually arrives home, it's almost half past five anyway. He was supposed to help John four until six, because someone was leaving early, or something like that. His mind is spinning in all different directions, and Dean is barely unable to think as his shaky hands push down the front door handle, and he turns his back to tiptoe inside. He can't wait to tell Sammy what happened today.

 

“Nice of you to finally arrive home.” All of Dean's previous happiness is sucked into the black hole that he knows is standing right behind him. He shuts the door with a quiet thump, and gulps, closing his eyes and preparing himself to turn around.

 

The Winchester turns to face his Father, who's wearing the all too familiar stern frown that he wears to show Dean that he's a disappointment of a son. ”Sorry, I really did forget.“ Dean locks eye contact, not backing down. He's trying to keep the positivity buzzing inside of him, because he doesn't want to forget the sparks that he felt just a few moments ago after leaving Cas' house.

 

“Where were you then? What's so important that you would --”

 

“At Cas'.” He didn't even think, dammit. The words simply fell before he could stop them. Having Castiel on your mind clearly makes it hard not to want to blurt it out to the whole damn world, because all of the butterflies bubbling up inside of him are making Dean Winchester want to explode.

 

John's face twists into a look of confusion first, and then he scoffs whilst turning more despising.”Your tutor? You don't even get tutored today,” the man's voice starts to raise, which is a sign they're about to endure another argument.

 

”W - we were having extra lessons on math,“ he tries to think of a good enough excuse so as not to make John suspicious, but his Dad isn't buying it. He starts laughing, and then steps even closer.

 

His voice lowers down into a deadly whisper, and that's when Dean loses it. “Is this the fag that you're head over heels for, huh?”

 

All of the pent up anger and emotions that he'd been stuffing deeper down over these past few days of having John make snide little comments here and there seem to lurch upwards all at once.”So what if he is?!” His voice echoes around the previously quiet hallway, and even John actually looks shocked at the outburst.

 

“You know what.” The man turns his back, unable to face his 'abomination of a son' any longer.

 

Dean steps forwards, grabbing him by the arm.”What are you gonna do?! Kick me out of the house again?! Huh? Is that it?“ Each word gets louder. ”Can't even look at me, because I like someone who isn't fucking female?!” He screams at his Dad, hatred spilling out of his mouth with every word.

 

The elder Winchester is making his way upstairs now, most likely to find a bottle of liquor hidden in a drawer in his bedroom. He'll probably down it, and go to sleep so that he can pretend none of this happened... or he'll fake apologise later on, and blame it on the alcohol. Dean tears after him, not leaving the row alone this time like he usually does.

 

“You think Mom would hate me too? Or, are you just compensating for the fact that you need a woman in the house?!” Dean continues to dig deeper underneath John's skin, knowing that he'll soon regret making fun of his son's orientation.

 

Well, Dean was right about one thing... regret surely is to be involved. After John hears these words, he stops frozen in his tracks, a few steps away from his bedroom door. He turns slightly, so that he can glance Dean sideways in the eye.”Don't you bring her into this.” His voice is still dangerously low, so gruff that it sounds like gravel crunching under someone's feet.

 

“What? You gonna back down now?!” His son scoffs. “Oh no, it's not going to work like that today. You're not going to put me down and hide... I'm having a turn for once.” His combat boots stomp so loudly along the carpeted floor, that he feels as if he may go through the floorboards.

 

John bites his tongue, thinking of what to yell next. Dean uses this fully to his advantage, and carries on throwing the insults forwards. “That's what I thought... because, Mary would never have had a problem with my choices. Because, she actually loved me!” Tears are forming inside of his eyes, but he chews at the inside of his cheek and swallows the painful lump in his throat. He can't look weak. Not now.

 

Walking forwards towards his son, John balls his fists up by his sides. “I said, leave her out of this. I'm your only parent, and I raised you. I certainly didn't raise you to be like... this.” He's unsure of the right word to use, which is probably a good thing since Dean is physically having to shove his hands so deep in his pockets in order to not use violence against the bastard.

 

“Stop blaming her death on every shit thing you do! And, face the fact that you're a bad fucking person for once!” He yells until his throats feels raw, when suddenly Sam's bedroom door flings open – Dean had no idea he was even in the house.

 

Both John and Dean's attention is divided away from the matters at hand for the moment, as they stare at the teenager who's just emerged. “Stop!” Sam yells as loud as he can, tears rolling down his face. “Just... I'm trying to study,“ now being reduced to a timid whisper, he drops his head. Small hiccups and sniffles escape him, despite how hard he'd tried not to cry in front of them.

 

“Get out of this house.” Dean turns to his Dad, and clenches his jaw so tightly that it pops. John opens his mouth to talk, but his eldest son has had enough. He strides straight past, and doesn't hesitate to shove against his Dad's arm, not stopping until he reaches his brother standing sobbing quietly in the middle of the hallway.

 

Not looking back to see what John's reaction may be, Dean takes Sam by the arm, takes them both inside of his bedroom, and slams the door closed. After having used all of his might not to physically hurt the man outside, the eldest son takes a deep breath, turns to a space in Sam's wall, and stabs his fist into it as if it were John's face.

 

 _“Dean!”_ Sam exclaims, looking up at what his brother has just done.

At the sound of his little brother's voice, he yanks his fist out of the wall, and turns to him. Tears are still tumbling, and Dean hates that he partly caused this. He steps forwards, and grabs Sam into a hug. He feels Sam bury his face into his shoulder, and then a tiny laugh slash sob bubbles out of him.”Y - you've made a hole in my dry wall.” The boy says, looking up at the damage through blurry eyes.

 

Dean steps back, and smiles at his brother's amused expression.”I'm sorry, Sammy.” He's sincere with his apology – and, Sam knows that he isn't talking only about the dry wall.

 

The younger brother nods once, and then shakily inhales. He wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie, and rubs underneath his nose with the back of his hand. Dean watches him as he walks over to his bed, pulls back the duvet, and climbs inside.”What about your studying?” Dean asks, earning the smallest of scoffs in return.

 

“Fuck studying,” Sam mumbles, voice laced with tiredness. It's like he's given up for now, and tucked himself up in bed to try and forget the exhaustion of his only parent giving him what feels like a migraine.

 

Dean sighs. His brother is the only hope that this family will ever amount to something... if anyone ever asks him about his kid brother, he'll always brag that Sammy is gonna make it into Stanford one day.”Do you need anything?” Dean sits on the edge of his bed, and Sam rolls over.

 

His face emerges from under the covers.”No,” is the blunt reply.

 

About to try and think up of some kind of answer for that, Dean experiences a sudden surge of pain coming from his right hand. It seems that the adrenaline of his ordeal with John is starting to wear off, and now the pain from his burst of anger is setting in.

 

“Fuck,” Dean curses through gritted teeth, taking a glance at his bloody knuckles and getting a wave of dizziness at the sight.

 

Sam rolls his eyes, and sits up in bed. “Go get some ice, I heard Dad slam the front door already.” He tells his brother, who finds it weird that somehow Sam had heard that and not himself. Maybe he just didn't care enough to be listening.

 

As he descends the staircase, Dean’s mind wanders to the happenings of earlier today. He thinks about telling Sam – maybe it'll cheer him up. As his non-injured hand delves into the freezer and grips the bag of frozen peas, there's a knock at the front door. It clearly isn't John – why would he knock on his own damn door – so, Dean doesn't hesitate in going to answer.

 

When he opens it, a feeling of warmth washes over him. Cas is standing there, wearing his space jacket and the glasses that Dean had chosen the night before. He's so caught up in admiring the outfit, he doesn't say anything. It’s actually Cas that speaks first, for once.

 

“Dean,” he begins, drawing the Winchester’s attention back towards his lips. “You forgot something.” Castiel says.

 

The eldest Winchester is about to question Cas’ statement, when he's rendered completely speechless by what happens next. The boy leans up on the tiptoes of his canvas shoes, and presses his lips to Dean’s mouth. He drops the bag of peas to the floor, and relaxes into the gesture. His healthy hand finds a resting place upon Cas’ jolted out hipbone underneath the jacket, and he can feel the both of Castiel’s hands placed gently on the bottom of his back.

 

“Oh, fuck.” These are the words that make Cas jump so badly, he detaches himself from Dean with such force that he almost falls backwards off of the porch steps.

 

Thankfully, Dean’s eyes had snapped open fast enough to see Cas about to fall, so he grabs him just in time. He pulls him close to his body, and wraps him in an embrace whilst spinning around to glare at the culprit who had interrupted their kiss. “Sammy.” Dean clenches his jaw, narrowing his eyes and staring at his little brother.

 

“I – I,” Sam stumbles over his words, completely astounded as to what he witnessed, and awkwardly embarrassed that he'd blurted out such choice language and made them stop.

 

Dean can feel the heat beaming off of him, and he's pretty sure that his face is red enough to show it. Castiel’s breathing is getting quicker by the second, and Dean snaps out of the staring contest with his brother to try and calm him down.

 

“Cas, it's alright. Sam's cool with it.” He helps Cas back to his feet, and turns to close the front door. “Aren't you, Sammy?” Dean looks across the room, to where Sam hasn't moved a muscle.

 

He doesn't quite know where to look or what to say. He just feels bad that he'd made Dean and Cas feel so awkward. “Oh god, I'm fine with it. I – I'm just… sorry I scared you?” He scratches the back of his neck. “I only came down to get a drink.” The boy rubs his eyes, and then glances down at the bag of peas on the floor.

 

As if something in Dean’s brain was thinking the same thing, he suddenly winces from the pain. Cas jumps, and then glances down to where Sam seems to be gazing. “What did you hurt?” His voice is timid and shaky, as he searches Dean’s body for an obvious injury.

 

His eyes land on Dean’s right hand, that's scattered with fresh cuts. “Long story… involves drywall, actually,” a forced laugh exits Dean’s mouth.

 

Castiel bends down to pick up the bag, and then he gently takes Dean’s injured hand in his own. He presses the bag against it, and grimaces at the pain that Dean expertly holds in. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, the elder brother can still see Sam – frozen to the spot.

 

“Sammy –” Dean hisses in pain, “could you leave us alone for a bit?”

 

Finally, the sound of running footsteps leaving up the stairs and towards Sam’s bedroom can be heard. Then, Dean looks back up at Cas again. “That was some entrance, Cas.” He smirks, his eyes gliding over the pinkest of cheeks that he's ever witnessed.

 

“Am I hurting you? Sorry, it's… I,” Castiel gulps, his hands starting to shake and fail to keep Dean’s steady.

 

“It's okay, I promise.” The soft spoken words somehow manage to soothe Cas, as he stumbles backwards and hits a wall. He steadies himself, breathing slowly.

 

Novak raises his eyes upwards, and catches Dean’s. He smiles, still tending to his beat up hand. “You know that thing I forgot?” Dean steps forwards, but senses how uncomfortable and nervous the whole ordeal had rendered Cas. He stops himself, and remembers that he should probably rest up too.

 

“We should finish that another time,” he finalises. “C’mon, let’s get Sammy a drink and then rest.”

 

Cas is confused. He was sure Dean wanted to kiss again – and, damn did he want that too. But, unfortunately anxiety came a knocking, and despite Castiel trying to overstep his comfort bubble and try to be more appealing to Dean… it just wasn't working. But, it seems as if Dean understands, which is extremely relieving beyond words for Castiel Novak.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

_**Next Monday,** _   
_**8.25a.m.** _

 

  
As Cas nears the tree that he always meets Emmy under, he smiles. Dean is standing there, leaning against the bark. He hadn't told Castiel he'd meet him there, which is a nice surprise. “Hey,” he says, standing close.

 

“Hi,” Dean looks up, his cheeks tinted pink already.

 

They both stand in silence for a few seconds, literally just staring. Dean chews his gum slowly, his eyes intently concentrating on each fleck of blue behind Cas’ glasses. His hand twitches slightly, and brushes against Castiel’s. Their fingers stay touching, until Dean makes the move and holds onto the other.

 

“Is this okay?” He whispers, and Castiel nods.

 

The pair become distracted away from their trance, as the sound of running footsteps echoes across the ground. Emmy walks up to them, whilst they stand, frozen. Neither boy made the move to flinch away… so, they're still holding hands. Her jaw drops, and her eyes widen.

“You're… dating? You're dating?” Emmy practically starts to yell, but then clasps her hand over her mouth.

 

Cas turns a deep shade of red, and Dean’s cheeks flare up even pinker. They have no idea what to do or say, so they don't do anything. “When did this happen?” Emmy gasps, stepping closer as if to check if this is real.

 

“Wednesday,” Dean mumbles, a tiny smirk appearing upon his lips.

 

“Damn. You miss school and this happens,” Emmy giggles, turning on her heel to start the walk to school.

 

Dean has to tug Cas along, as he's still stuck on the spot. This is all new to him, and it's scrambling his brain just a little bit. Their hands stay stuck together for the whole walk to school, as they trudge behind Emmy. She doesn't pester them with questions, she simply leads the way with a small skip to her step.

 

When they begin to near the turning that leads to the school entrance, Cas’ hand moves a little. Dean looks over at him, and squeezes their hands together harder. “I'll let go if you want to… but, I don't care what anyone thinks.” He whispers so that only Castiel can hear.

 

Strangely enough, this is all that Cas needs to hear. He trusts Dean as much as he trusts Emmy, so of course his words will effect him. Castiel grips Dean's hand tight, and braces himself for whoever wants to pick a fight with the pair of them. Dean is right… they shouldn't hide. They should stick together, whether in school or not.

 

~*~*~*~

 

**_Lunchtime._ **

 

  
Despite suffering murmuring comments and quiet laughing towards him all damn morning, Cas is just focusing on the one nice comment he had received in English. “I think you and Dean are super cute, by the way. Don't let the others put you down,” Charlie Bradbury has truly saved Cas from a panic attack today, and she probably doesn't even know it.

 

He wanders the corridors, heading outside because he doesn't want to face anyone right now – not even Emmy, or Dean. All Cas would like to do is watch the birds flying around in the sky, to try and calm his mind a little. Before he can reach the usual door he exits through, his eyes settle upon something that makes his anxiety sky rocket almost immediately – Dean beating the crap out three jocks at once.

 

“Don't you say that about him!” He heard a strangled yell, and he can't let it continue.

 

“Dean! Stop!” The Winchester freezes, his fist in mid air. His hand grips the collar of the main antagonist who usually picks on Cas. The words make him shiver… they remind him of his little brother, whenever himself and John argue.

 

He turns, and stare at Cas from the opposite side of the corridor. Castiel tries to yell out in time, but the second Dean loosens his grip on the guy’s collar, he breaks free and spins Dean around so that he's shoved against the wall instead. He swings at Dean’s face, and gets as close to his ear as he can, in order to whisper so that nobody else can hear.

 

“Leave him alone!” Cas yells, running up and pushing his way past the other two jocks blocking him from reaching his boyfriend’s side.

 

The guy to the right pulls Castiel back, causing Dean to squirm and try to move. The jock on the left helps to render him unable to escape, whilst the other holds Cas down against the wall beside him. “Cas!” Emmy’s voice adds to the concoction of yelling.

 

He glances over, seeing that she's just come around the corner. Her eyes carry concern, but soon he loses sight of her as a small crowd begins to gather around. “You leave him alone!” Cas can still hear her.

 

Some small part of his mind is urging to escape. All of the anger he's ever held in, all the emotions bubbling up inside of him. “Let me speak for myself!” His voice rips through the air, shocking the trio of bullies surrounding him.

 

He tears free from the boy’s grip, and shoves him to the side. “You're picking on Dean because he wanted to date me?! Because he has different orientation to what you do? Do you know how fucking stupid that is?” Castiel yells until his throat hurts, rendering every single person sharing the hallway completely silent.

 

The main jock keeps his hold on Dean, but doesn't continue to hurt him. The other guy has already let go, too speechless to try and join in. “Why do you do it? Because I'm autistic, and I'm funny? ‘Cause I'm a little different? Maybe that's true… but, you should reevaluate your reasons for hurting people. I know for sure that I've had enough of it, and I won't be giving in to you guys anymore.”

 

Instead of each bully backing down, for some unknown reason the leader starts up again. He grabs Dean by the collar of his jacket, and slams him back into the wall. “You don't know how many times this guy stood by and watched you get hit… and, you just wanna be his bitch?!” He spits towards Cas, and then turns back to Dean, throwing another sharp punch to his face.

 

“Dean's been nothing but nice to me.” Castiel moves closer, until he's an inch away from Dean’s captor. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

 

“Go on then, hit me.” He drops Dean to the ground.

 

“No. I won't lower myself to your standards, thank you.” Castiel holds eye contact without breaking away, he can't back down now.

 

A scoff leaves his opponent’s mouth, and then he turns back to where Dean is standing up again. He pushes him back to the wall, and delivers a blow to his nose. A few people around them let out noises of second hand pain, as the Winchester clasps his open palm up to the fresh injury.

 

And, that's all it took. Cas launches himself at the bully, throwing them both to the floor. “Y – you stop! Stop hurting people to carry on your ego,” he hits his face, but not nearly as hard as he'd been hitting Dean.

 

“You think you're special, ‘cause you got that thing? You lookin’ for sympathy?” He hisses through gritted teeth, staring Cas down.

 

“Dude, stop. My cousin has autism. It ain't a joke,” the jock on the left mumble, and crouches down to where Cas and his friend are lying.

 

The temporary distraction leaves the enemy just enough time to push Castiel off of him, and swap sides. But, his friend drags him away. “Let's go,” he whispers, but his friend will not back down.

 

Cas feels a hand helping him up, and he knows by the ring that she's wearing that it's Emmy. “Ems,” Castiel whispers shakily, and she knows what's happening.

 

“I'll get you out of here,” she says reassuringly, but once again someone is trying to get between them.

 

The other two jocks have clearly backed down, and are trying to get their friend to join… but, he pushes past Emmy, and grabs Cas. “Just so you know, you ruined Dean. I don't care if you're straight or gay, stupid or clever. You don't deserve him.” His voice stays dangerously low, and Castiel feels tears blurring his vision.

 

In his current state, his mind begins to echo the words and believe them. The three jocks hear the shrill sound of the school bell, but it simply washes over Cas like it’s non-existent. The sounds around him are too loud and warbled to tell apart. Emmy is pulling him out of the doors, but he's trying to turn around to grab Dean. “I'm here, Cas.” He feels a hand envelope his own, and he closes his eyes from the safety.

 

That's all he remembers.

 

____

 

**_1 hour later._ **

 

  
“He's waking up!” A loud voice is the first thing he hears.

 

His eyes can't fully open, because the light stings. It still shines through his closed eyelids though, causing an ache inside of his head. A few moments later, thudding footsteps intensify the pain. But, then two hands press against his, and they're warm and welcoming like a fuzzy blanket. “Cas, you okay?” The voice is confusing him, because it's still as if he's underwater a little.

 

Cas tries to open his eyes again, but it hurts just the same. “Don't sit up, I got you.” This time he pinpoints the voice straight away – Dean.

 

He needs to sit up now, and see how his boyfriend is. He must make sure that he's okay. Using all of his strength, Castiel heaves himself into a sitting position. “Woah, woah! Easy there,” Dean grabs onto him, as a huge wave of dizziness traps his entire body.

 

But, Dean stops him from falling. He wraps his arms around the boy, and kisses his temple. “I got you, babe.” He whispers, completely forgetting the fact that Emmy is sat beside them on the desk chair.

 

She watches how tender and gentle he is, and most of her worried about Dean hurting her best friend begin to slowly fade away. In fact, she had been planning on yelling at him all day… when, she'd stumbled in on the ongoing fight that was happening due to his new relationship. He'd been sticking up for Cas, but he'd got so angry that his actions got the better of his words. And, Emmy understands.

 

Castiel finally opens his eyes, and is met with a beautiful shade of green. A small smile spreads across his face. “You're very blurry, can I have my glasses back, please?” He speaks quietly, his throat dry.

 

Dean laughs, and cuddles Cas even tighter. Emmy clears her throat, handing Dean the eyewear that they'd removed from Castiel after he'd blacked out. The Winchester carefully places them onto his face – being careful to avoid his freshly bruised cheekbone. Now Castiel can appreciate Dean’s eyes in HD, which is a lot better.

 

“Thank you,” he says. “Are you okay?” His eyes are now scanning Dean’s face for injuries – there's still dry blood underneath his nose, and all around his left eye is red and purple.

 

“I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about,” Dean says, aggressively chewing the pieces of gum inside of his mouth.

 

Castiel feels himself grow embarrassed, a small blush forming over his injured face. “Sorry, if I – I scared you. I've never really gotten that angry before, and I've only ever passed out once due to a panic attack.” He admits, looking away from Dean’s eyes.

 

“It isn't your fault,” Dean says softly, kissing the top of Cas’ head.

 

“Well, are we speaking technically or hypothetically?” He murmurs, burying his head into Dean’s chest as a strong sensation of tiredness washes over him.

 

“I'm speaking overall. It isn't your fault, and you stuck up for me. Damn, you yelled louder than I've heard most people yell in a fight,” he chuckles slightly, and even Cas gets a small laugh out of it.

 

As if Dean’s words take on effect and remind Castiel of the pain in his throat, he coughs a little. Dean helps him sit up properly, and then he leans up against the wall of what he now realises to be behind Dean’s bedroom. He gets handed an unopened water bottle, but the Winchester opens it for him.

 

“Thank you,” Castiel mumbles, taking the bottle and shakily bringing it up to his lips.

 

As he's drinking, there's a quiet knock at the door. “Sammy?” Dean calls out, not moving from his close spot next to Castiel.

“Yeah, it's me! Class was cancelled… I heard you skipped school?!” He calls back.

 

“Come in,” Dean answers simply.

 

The younger brother slowly opens the door. He sees Cas lying on the bed, looking pale and shaken up. He then glances to Emmy, who smiles a little towards him. “Everything okay?” He asks.

 

Dean nods. “Yeah, don't worry… some stuff just happened,” he explains.

 

Sam notices the injuries on the couples’ faces. “I'm gonna go study. Let me know if you need anything,” he mumbles, and smiles a little when Cas looks over.

 

A little while later, Emmy leaves. She tells Cas to call if he needs anything – but she now feels like she can fully trust Dean to take care of him. In fact, the couple don't move for hours. They just sit in each other's presence, and Cas have never really felt any safer.

 

~*~*~*~

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

____

 

_**Two months later…** _   
_**Saturday, January 2nd.** _

 

  
Castiel opens his eyes, being greeted with the sight he'd fallen asleep to – well, a much blurrier version. “You took my glasses off,” he groans, being met with a fingertip booping him on the end of the nose.

 

“That's how things get broken,” Dean laughs.

 

He passes Cas his glasses, and lets him sit up. “How long did I sleep for?” He asks, stretching upwards with his arms.

 

“Two hours,” Dean chuckles, “Emmy called – wants to come over. I told her I'd text as soon as you woke up.”

 

Castiel smiles. It's been almost two whole months since him and Dean first started dating. At first, he was so afraid of telling Emmy. But, she kind of just found out by chance. It did take her a while to adjust to the fact that she was slowly starting to like Dean as a friend, and it took a damn long time to get used to him being around all the time. But, eventually she accepted it.

 

“I'm surprised she's not still hungover from the new year,” Cas and Dean both giggle at his joke. Everyone knows Emmy loves a party – so, of course she went to the biggest new year party in town… oh, and Dean? He stayed home with Cas and Sammy, having a few beers and watching the fireworks in the garden. Sam covered his eyes most of the time – despite Dean and Cas just cuddling, and a small peck on the cheek from Dean at the countdown.

 

But, the today was the day Dean’s dad arrived home from a job. So, he's been at Cas’ since six am this morning. Sam can deal with having John home, because he stays in his room and studies… so, he politely declined Castiel's slightly awkward offer of a bed on the floor at his place. Besides, his parents aren't home, so what's new there?

 

A while after Dean texts Emmy to inform her that Cas has awoken, there's a knock at the door. He goes to answer – Cas is busy making cups of coffee for the trio – pulling the door open and greeting the blonde with a cheesy smile. “Move your ass,” Emmy rolls her eyes, stepping inside and out of the crisp air.

 

“You still don't like me, do you?” Dean smirks, leaning up against the wall as she wipes her shoes on the matt, and tugs them off of her feet.

 

“I don't hate you anymore… but, whatever Castiel is dating, I gotta like it too.” She faux shudders, and Dean snorts.

 

A few seconds later, a sleepy looking Cas appears in the hallway, carrying a tray of drinks. He's wearing an oversized sweater – clearly belonging to Dean – in a faded maroon shade, aligned with some stray pins that he keeps around his bedroom. His sweatpants rest against his chiselled hipbones, and damn, Dean can't help but stare.

 

Emmy looks from Cas, and then back at Dean again. Both of them are blushing, and can't take their eye off of one another. She laughs aloud, a sound of happiness leaving her voicebox. There was a time Castiel wouldn't dare look in the same direction as Dean Winchester… now look at them. “You're sickening,” she mutters, skipping past them both and heading inside of the living room.

 

“What does that even mean?” Cas rolls his eyes, following after her and setting the tray of drinks gently down onto the coffee table.

 

Dean shakes his head. “Means she's jealous, babe,” he presses a kiss to the top of Cas’ head, spreading the pink all over his pale face.

 

Their blonde haired friend leans back into the sofa, feeling Cas squish closer so that Dean can also fit on. There's something playing quietly on the TV for background noise – Dean knows that it helps Cas to get to sleep – but, none of them really care what's showing right now. Instead, they sip on their drinks in silence for a bit. After a while, Dean excuses himself to the bathroom… leaving Cas alone with Emmy.

 

“Do you really not like Dean? Or is it just a joke,” Cas whispers, setting his mug down onto the table.

 

Emmy turns to him, and tackles him into a hug. “Listen, he's fine. I don't love him… that's your job,” she lets him sit up again, and watches as he straightens up his glasses and smiles bashfully into the sweater paws of his – Dean's – sweater.

 

“We’ve been dating for a month and twelve days, Ems.” Novak states factually, pressing the cool surface of a planet pin against his heated cheeks.

 

“That's specific,” Emmy giggles quietly, putting her drink down also.

 

Cas raises an eyebrow. “I'm a specific person.” He admits, and she nods in agreement.

 

“So…” Emmy continues, trailing off for a moments when a dramatic scene appears on the random TV show. “Did you have a New Years kiss?” She whispers, leaning in a little closer to her friend.

 

The boy turns a deep shade of red, as he shakes his head and shuffles a little further to his right. “Uh… not really. Just a kiss on the cheek. I don't really like fireworks much, so I wasn't concentrating,” he murmurs, covering his mouth with the sweater paw.

 

“Cas!” Emmy whines, playfully punching his shoulder.

 

“What? We weren't ready,” he says quietly, and then Emmy drops it.

 

A few moments later, Dean comes back into the room. He takes his seat back next to Castiel, and loosely slings his arm around his shoulders. “I sense awkwardness…” he squints his eyes, looking at the people beside him.

 

Castiel pretends he doesn't notice. “Oh,” he replies.

 

“Okay, anyway.. can we tell Emmy my New Years resolution?!” Dean asks excitedly, and suddenly Cas’ whole persona changes.

 

The blonde frowns, but moves forwards in her seat a little more in order to face Dean better. He grins like a little kid, and then looks extremely proud. “I haven't smoked since Christmas Eve’s Eve… and, my resolution is to stop all together!” He smiles, and Emmy audibly gasps.

 

“Seriously?!” She turns to Cas, who's smiling so hard he has eye crinkles.

 

Dean nods. “Mhmm!” He folds his arms, and continues to smile.

 

She stands up, and takes Dean’s hand. “I'm going to hug you… because I'm happy. And, slightly hungover. Both equaling me liking you a little more -– apparently.” Emmy rambles, as she pulls him up from the sofa.

 

Her arms wrap around him, and he hugs back straight away. They sway a little from the hug, until Emmy feels Cas’ foot poking her in the back. “Hey, stop stealing my boyfriend!” He snaps jokingly, and both people in the hug start laughing.

 

They pull away at the same time, and smile down at Castiel. His cheeks are still tinted pink, and his arms are folded whilst he has a pout on his face. Dean falls back onto the sofa next to Cas, and snakes his arms around his torso. He squishes his face against his own cheek, and then opens his eyes again.

 

“Better?” He smirks slightly, as Cas’ cheeks start to turn even pinker.

 

He nods, and both Dean and Emmy giggle. She's happy for her best friend, ecstatic actually. He's finally found someone… and, so has Dean.

 

____

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all, so much for reading! This is the last chapter... for now. There will be one or two future epilogue chapters to look forward to!
> 
> Don't hesitate to check out my other deancas works. Thank you. - Sam xx.

 

____

 

 _**Saturday, January 2nd.** _  
_**7.30p.m.** _

 

  
Dean and Castiel are lying down, bundled up in coats, hats and scarves. They're in the back of a truck Dean had ‘borrowed’ from his Dad’s mechanics shop. Their hands are holding the other, as they look up at the inky blue sky. It's pitch black, but they're used to the dark by now. They've sat here for almost two hours, watching the world go by. There's also a few blankets tucking them in, and keeping them warm.

 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean says quietly, his breath making a fog cloud in the air.

 

He turns to face his boyfriend, their noses bumping into each other. “Yeah?” He knows he's close to Dean’s lips… close enough to kiss.

 

“The stars are cooler than I gave you credit for,” he smiles bashfully.

 

“You like stargazing?” Cas sounds excited, and a grin spreads from ear to ear.

 

“Yeah… I was only teasing before,” he squeezes his hand.

 

They grow silent, their eyes still locked together. Green meets blue, and neither will look away… until, Dean’s eyes trail downwards. He's now moving an inch closer, the only inch that it takes to close the small gap between them. Castiel lets it happen, and he closes his eyes just before the impact happens. He feels the coldness of Dean’s mouth pressing against his, but their lips soon warm up. Dean rolls over a little, moving his left hand to cup Cas’ jaw.

 

Castiel feels him squeezing his other hand even harder, and the heat burns against their skin. Cas’ glasses bump into Dean’s face, and they both giggle into the kiss. It only lasts about a minute, but to them, it feels like a lifetime. When they split apart again, they stare into each other's eyes once more. Both sets of pupils have enlarged a noticeable amount, and they're panting quite heavily.

 

“Hey, Dean?” Cas whispers, his voice shaky and sounding out of breath.

 

“Yeah?” Dean blinks, and licks his lips.

 

“I think… I think I'd like to count that as our… official first kiss. A kiss under the stars – oh, that reminds me! I have something for you.” He begins to rummage through the right hand side pocket in his jeans.

 

Dean doesn't move, he waits. Castiel eventually pulls a small, clear bag, and then hands it to Dean. He takes it, and squints a little to see what it is. “A pin?” He gushes, looking up from the gift and back into Cas’ excited eyes.

 

He nods excitedly, and then unzips his coat to show Dean a matching version pinned to his denim jacket collar. It's outlined in gold, and the one he gave Dean is silver. It's a tiny jar, that's as dark as the night sky inside, with four little silver stars. “I love it, thank you!” Dean gets it out of the bag straight away, and pins it onto his own sweater underneath the coat.

 

Castiel shuffles closer to Dean, and rests his head into the crook of his neck. He closes his eyes. “Thank you, Dean.” He whispers sleepily, feeling the boy cuddle into him more too.

 

“For what?” The Winchester whispers back, also growing tired.

 

“Staying here. Being with me… under the stars.”

 

____

 

**_The end._ **

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to epilogue one!
> 
> I hope that you enjoy. Xx
> 
> \- Sam.

 

____

 

 _**11 months later…** _  
_**Saturday, December 5th.** _  
_**9.30a.m.** _

 

  
Icy breath fogs up the air in front of them, a somewhat olden day reminder of what used to be. Chilly hands are squeezed close together, and bodies walk side by side. “It is freezing as shit out here,” Dean’s ever so poetic words crack the silence.

 

Cas frowns. “You still confuse me,” he mumbles, a shiver shaking his body.

 

Dean pulls him under his arm. “We’re almost there, babe.” He reassures him, pressing a cold kiss to his pink cheek.

 

The boy smiles, feeling warm inside from the action – such a contrast from the snowy weather around them. As they turn the corner, the pair leave the nearby parking lot behind and arrive to be faced with a queue of people. They soon spot Emmy, who's waving at them near the front.

 

“Are you sure it's okay to skip the line?” Cas mumbles, feeling Dean’s grip on his hand tighten, as he pulls him through the crowd.

 

Now that the trio are safely standing together, Dean turns to Castiel. “We didn't skip the line, Emmy was holding our place for us,” he smirks, pecking his boyfriend on the cheek.

 

“Are you both excited?” The freshly dyed brunette squees happily.

 

The line starts to move, and the sign for ‘Kansas City Ice Rink’ appears above their heads. Cas shrugs, muttering something about not being able to skate. “I'll help you,” the Winchester says beside him, but Castiel didn't even know he was listening.

 

“I can't skate for shit, Cas. Don't worry,” Emmy giggles, trying to make him feel a little better.

 

After a few more minutes waiting in the line, they get inside a nice, warm building. Colour flows back into their faces, and Dean finds Cas’ pink nose to be too adorable not to boop. They each go up to the counter, and get the right sized skates. Once they're all laced up, it's time to exit the warmth and head out onto the ice itself.

 

Cas stumbles as they walk outside, but Dean grips his gloved hand. “Don't worry,” he whispers.

 

Approaching the edge of the rink, Castiel’s eyes set upon the copious amounts of people occupying the space ahead of them. It's a big ice rink, but there's still a lot of people on it. “Dean, I dunno…” he murmurs, tugging away his hands so he can twist his fingers around.

 

Emmy steps on first, about to let them know how easy it is… when she stumbles. Dean snorts with laughter at her, and just his smile is enough to make Cas feel that little bit less nervous. “Ready?” The male asks, tilting Castiel’s chin upwards in order to look him in the eye.

 

He steps onto the ice, and Dean takes both of his hands. A tiny burst of confidence washes over Novak out of thin air, and he relaxes his body. This allows Dean to help him get on. Immediately, it feels as if gravity has become nonexistent underneath his skates. He grips the side so tightly that his knuckles must be white underneath the wool that's protecting them.

 

“I – I don't like this, Dean.” Cas gulps, as a teenager swivels past the both of them, causing a rush of wind to hit their faces.

 

“I got you,” the boyfriend doesn't act phased, despite being uneasy under his own two feet.

 

Castiel looks down at their skates, and then slowly back up again. “Can you skate w – with bow legs?” He chokes out a laugh, whilst Dean’s eyes roll.

 

“Sorry,” Cas apologises, flushing a shade of deep red.

 

“It's alright. Now, c’mon,” their hands are still tightly molded together, as Dean begins to skate forwards.

 

The fact that they're both holding hands keeps each one of them somewhat upright, and by the time they've skidded and slipped around the rink once, Castiel is regaining a little bit of balance. “I got it!” He beams, his glasses slipping down his nose.

 

Dean grins at the contagious bout of happiness, and reaches forwards to poke the spectacles up for him. “Told you it wasn't so bad,” he smiles softly.

 

“Woah!” Emmy goes flying past them both, skidding to a halt into the barrier at the edge.

 

Attempting to not laugh out loud, Dean bites his lip and helps Cas to skate over and make sure that she's okay. “These things should have damn breaks on them!” She mutters, fixing her wild hair.

 

“Oh, did you know Sam’s here?” The girl then adds, totally casually.

 

Dean huffs loudly. “I'll be right back,” he lets go of Castiel’s hand, but Emmy takes his place right away.

 

Shakily skating off in the direction Emmy had pointed in, sure enough Sam is leaning against the barrier on the far end of the rink. He sees Dean skating towards him, and immediately his facial expression switches to sheepish. “What happened to staying home?” The protective, elder brother grumbles.

 

“I'm here… with Jess,” the boy whispers.

 

“And…?”

 

“We’re, like, uh.. you know,” Dean shrugs, giving him an expression as if to say ‘spit it out!’ “We’re on a date.” Sam finally gets it out.

 

His brother cracks a smile, and punches Sam right in the shoulder. “No way! Since when has this been a thing?!” He beams.

 

“Only for two weeks,” the kid is blushing furiously, and Dean can't help but feel proud.

 

“Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone.” He says, turning to in fact see the said girl skating towards them both – surprisingly, with amazing precision too.

 

She smiles when she sees Dean, and comes to a steady halt. “Hi, Dean,” Jess’ hand brushes against Sam’s.

 

“You two have fun now,” he smirks, causing the poor little brother to blush even more.

 

Before either can say anything, Dean skates back over to where Emmy and Cas have barely moved a muscle between them. “What's the goss?” The girl wiggles her eyebrows, knowing something must have just gone down.

 

The male looks behind him, making sure Sam isn't close by. “My kid brother has only gone and got himself a girl,” his smile carries so much pride, that it warms Emmy’s heart.

 

“Aw!” She claps her hands together, and Cas’ now free hand grasps the side. “Shit, my bad,” Emmy’s hands grab onto her best friend’s again.

 

“I got it,” Dean takes over, and relief calms Castiel down once more.

 

The trio skate for the next hour, until their time on the ice is up. Dean and Cas only fall over twice… each time being one of their faults. After such a long time exercising, they decide that cocoa is truly needed inside of them. Before they find the nearby cafe, all three return to their normal shoes.

 

“Feels good to be back on solid ground,” Cas exhales heavily.

 

Dean nods in agreement. “Ems fell over more than us though,” he giggles quietly, and Cas copies.

 

“Hey! You guys had each other to cling onto for dear life… I, myself, had nobody,” she pretends to act hurt, over dramatising her emotions by clutching at her heart.

 

The Winchester rolls his eyes, right as they walk inside the quaint little cafe and scan the area to find themselves a table. Castiel stays quiet, guessing that they're joking, but not choosing to join in. Dean and Emmy are finally friends… it took an extremely long time though. Shortly after graduation, back in July – yes, Dean graduated with flying colours in the end – they started to become a lot more civil. Things just changed after school ended, and it made it a lot easier for Dean to be himself around Emmy.

 

“I'll go get this,” Dean stands up, kissing Castiel on the top of his head.

 

Before either sat down at the table can argue, he's bounded off towards the counter. They'd discussed what they wanted prior to entering, so not even this can be an excuse to stop him paying for the both of them right now.

 

Emmy smiles, leaning back in her chair. “What a gentleman,” she winks, nudging Castiel with her elbow.

 

Of course, he blushes. Hiding behind the paws of his sweater that protrudes from his coat, Castiel’s glasses go all steamy. When he reemerges, a lovestruck grin is still painted upon his face. Emmy makes a comment about how adorable, cringingly in love they both are, but then Dean returns and she quiets down for a bit.

 

The three of them drink their hot cocoas, Dean having to resist the urge to kiss off the stray blob of cream that gets on the end of Cas’ nose. They don't mind Emmy being with them at times like this – in fact, unless they're on an actual date, the pair prefer it. Cas’ glasses steam up again, and eventually he gives up and puts them on the table. This means his boyfriend can not so subtly admire the striking blue that are Castiel Novak's iris’ too.

 

At the end of their cafe visit, Emmy has to go home to walk Honey. The puppy is not so much a puppy anymore, but she's still the cutest dog. Castiel often dog sits whenever Emmy is busy at work – she's an apprentice in the city, working on becoming a fully fledged beautician. So, as they go their separate ways after the infamous tree, Dean and Castiel head back home again.

-

 

**_To be continued…_ **

 


	15. Chapter 15

Hi, guys!

 

I've been trying to think of something else to write for ages... and, I'm not sure if I should. Of course, Dean and Cas are still living their happy ending, most likely get an apartment together, jobs, etc.

 

Comment if you really want one last epilogue, of course.

 

But, if not, thanks for reading and... the end(?)

 

♥️


	16. UTS: part two!

I have finally had an epiphany for not only one epilogue chapter... but, a whole new second part! Check for 'Under The Stars: College Years.' in my works!

 

Chapter one is now live! :)


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